8  57 


**• 


HER   WORD    OF    HONOR 


'  Oh,  Henry  !    I've  come  to  find  you  !  '  "     FRONTISPIECE.     See  p.  284. 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 


BY 
EDITH    MACVANE 

AUTHOR  OF  "TARANTELLA,"    "  THE  BLACK  FLIER,"   ETC. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY 
FRANK  SNAPP 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,   BROWN,   AND   COMPANY 
1912 


Copyright,  1912, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 
Published,  April,  1912. 


NotinnnU 
Set  up  and  electrotyped  by  J.  S.  Gushing  Co.,  Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

'* '  Oh,  Henry  !  I've  come  to  find  you  ! ' '  .   Frontispiece 

PAGE 

"  Genevi eve  gritted  her  teeth  and  went "     .          .          .23 

"  '  Come,    my    little    lady,    tell    me    all    about    your 

trouble!'"    .         .         .         ...         -57 

."  Above  the  noise  of  the  water,  I  heard  Henry's  voice  in 

my  ear" 147 

"  '  Madame,'  I  said,  '  don't  be  afraid.      Since  you  claim 

my  word,  I  will  keep  it ! '  "        .          .          .          .183 

"It  seemed  that  my  heart  had  stopped  beating"    .          .      127 


2136939 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

CHAPTER  I 

I  AM  a  poor  relation.  If  you  are  one  yourself, 
then  I  don't  have  to  tell  you  what  it's  like.  But 
if  you're  not,  then  you  probably  know  no  more 
about  it  than  I  did  in  the  old  days  when  papa  was 
alive,  and  I  was  still  Mademoiselle  Elise-Florence- 
Marie  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny ;  with  a  chic  little 
house  on  the  Boulevard  Malesherbes  and  a  chic 
little  dowry  in  the  bank.  Now  I  am  "  Come  here, 
Lili!" 

Not,  however,  that  I  intend  to  grumble.  No 
philosopher  ever  grumbles,  and  I  want  to  be  a 
philosopher.  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius  and 
Rochefoucauld  all  had  their  troubles,  like  me; 
but  they  all  looked  life  straight  in  the  face,  and 
took  what  they  got;  and  they  judged  things  and 
people  without  prejudice  or  sentimentality  or  any- 
thing like  that.  They  weren't  thinking  every 
minute  about  how  shocked  people  would  be,  like 
Aunt  Elizabeth  and  the  girls;  and  yet  look  how 

I 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

they  succeeded  in  life !     Now,  I  want  to  succeed 
in  life ;  so  I  have  decided  to  be  a  philosopher. 

The  first  thing  for  me  to  do,  evidently,  is  to 
collect  my  data,  and  arrange  them  in  a  perfectly 
cold  and  scientific  spirit.  So  let  us  be  on  our  way. 

PAPA 

If  I  can  be  scientific  here,  I'll  know  that  all  the 
books  in  my  uncle's  library  can  teach  me  nothing. 
For  —  oh,  my  papa  was  my  dearest  friend,  and 
it's  only  fifteen  months  since  he  died  ! 

Of  course  my  reason  tells  me  they're  quite  right, 
all  the  things  I've  heard  hinted  and  said  outright 
about  him  since  then.  He  made  his  blunders, 
my  poor  papa.  He  was  born  the  Marquis  de 
Vauquieres  de  Clugny,  with  three  million  francs' 
patrimony,  a  city  residence  and  three  chateaux. 
And  he  left  behind  not  even  a  son  to  inherit  the 
title :  just  a  daughter  that  inherits  nothing,  — 
nothing,  that  is,  but  a  few  books,  a  bundle  of  old 
letters,  and  an  old,  old  miniature  set  in  a  locket  of 
ancient  gold. 

Not  the  miniature  of  my  mamma,  even ;  no,  he 
didn't  even  marry  the  right  woman,  the  poor  dear. 
When  he  was  very  young,  hardly  older  than  I  am 

2 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

now,  it  seems  he  was  engaged  to  an  American  lady 
that  he  loved  very  much.  Then  came  the  war  of  '70, 
and  papa  marched  away  to  fight  the  Germans,  and 
was  wounded,  and  reported  dead.  So  at  last,  when 
he  made  his  way  back  to  Paris,  she  had  gone  away  to 
America  with  her  family ;  and  when  finally  he  got 
news  of  her  again,  she  had  married  some  one  else. 
So  years  and  years  after,  he  married  poor  mamma 
—  if  she  wasn't  the  same,  at  least  she  spoke  the 
same  language.  Did  she  know  she  was  only  sec- 
ond in  his  heart,  I  wonder,  or  would  she  have 
cared  if  she  knew  ?  As  she  was  English,  probably 
not.  That  is,  judging  from  the  Englishwomen  I 
know ;  for  —  oh,  I  never  knew  her !  She  died 
when  I  was  a  little,  little  child.  But  when  papa 
died,  it  was  not  her  miniature  we  found  on  his 
heart  after  he  was  dead ;  it  was  not  her  name  that 
he  said  last  of  all,  the  very  last  —  "Good  night, 
Harriet."  My  mamma's  name  was  Florence  Mary. 
But  Harriet  is  the  name  engraved  inside  the  locket 
with  the  miniature,  and  Harriet  Wilson  is  the 
name  signed  to  the  old  letters  I  found  in  a  silver 
box  in  papa's  desk,  before  the  chateau  at  Fon- 
tainebleau  was  sold  and  I  came  away  to  England 
to  live  with  my  mamma's  sister,  Aunt  Elizabeth. 

3 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

My  aunt,  who  considers  papa  an  immoral 
Frenchman  because  he  lost  his  money,  would  prob- 
ably turn  me  out  of  the  house  if  she  knew  about 
Harriet's  letters  up-stairs.  Is  she  right,  I  won- 
der, and  was  poor  papa's  life  all  a  mistake  from 
the  start  ?  Certainly  it  did  not  bring  him  much 
happiness.  He  was  always  melancholy ;  but  oh, 
how  kind  and  honorable  and  brave  !  If  he  mixed 
himself  up  in  copper-mine  schemes  that  he  didn't 
understand,  it  was  in  the  hope  of  doubling  my 
dowry.  If  he  let  his  property  go,  down  to  the  very 
last  sou,  it  was  to  keep  his  word  to  the  friend  that 
had  persuaded  him  into  the  affair. 

Fauquieres  tient  parole  —  that's  the  motto  on 
our  arms,  and  that's  what  papa  did.  He  kept 
his  word,  no  matter  what  it  cost.  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth laughs  at  the  motto,  and  says  it's  senti- 
mental rubbish  and  bally  rot,  out  of  date  since 
the  Crusades.  Possibly  she  is  right;  for,  if  we 
are  to  follow  modern  science  and  judge  every- 
thing by  its  ultimate  effect  on  the  species,  it's 
a  fact  that  this  motto,  after  eight  centuries,  has 
landed  its  last  holder  (in  direct  line)  high  and 
dry,  a  poor  relation  and  an  exile. 

But  to  every  dog,  they  say,  the  law  gives  one 
4 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

bite,  to  every  horse  one  kick.  So  to  every  phi- 
losopher must  be  allowed  one  human  weakness. 
And  here  is  mine :  With  all  my  heart,  I  love  the 
romantic  traditions  of  my  family,  the  splendid, 
unreasonable  heroism  that  goes  to  the  guillotine 
rather  than  beg  for  one's  life,  or  to  the  bank- 
ruptcy court  rather  than  break  one's  word  once 
given.  And  —  oh,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul, 
I  adore  the  memory  of  my  papa. 

MY  VAUQUIERES  UNCLES  AND  AUNTS  IN  PARIS 
Whether  or  not  they  stand  by  the  family  motto, 
and  keep  their  words,  I  really  can't  say ;  for  they 
never  promised  to  do  anything  for  me,  and  cer- 
tainly they  never  have.  But  they  are  all  very 
chic  and  very  grand,  and  at  papa's  funeral  they 
all  came  in  elegant  mourning  with  the  most  ex- 
pensive garlands.  Since  then  they  ignore  my  ex- 
istence. So,  instead  of  raising  my  temperature 
by  getting  angry,  I  will  just  ignore  theirs  ! 

AUNT  ELIZABETH 

My  Aunt  Elizabeth  is  a  thoroughly  good  woman, 
like  all  the  other  English  ladies  I  have  met  since 
being  here  at  Brent  Castle.  When  she  heard  I 

5 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

had  been  left  homeless,  she  didn't  ignore  me. 
No !  I  was  her  own  sister's  child,  she  said,  even 
if  I  did  have  a  fool  of  a  Frenchman  for  a  father ; 
and  she  intended  to  do  her  duty  by  me,  no  matter 
how  disagreeable  it  might  be.  Which  was  good 
of  her,  considering  that  my  uncle,  in  spite  of  his 
chic  name  and  title,  is  as  hard  up  for  ready  money 
sometimes  as  I  am  myself.  Racing  debts,  the 
governess  told  me ;  and  she  also  informed  me  that 
this  great,  splendid  chateau  is  plastered  with 
mortgages,  even  if  you  can't  see  them,  from  the 
turrets  to  the  gates. 

Aunt  Elizabeth  is  a  Duchess  —  the  Duchess  of 
Porthaven.  Though  she  is  dumpy,  and  faded, 
and  not  particularly  entertaining,  they  say  she 
is  the  most  important  person  in  London  society, 
next  to  the  Queen. 

Her  aversions  are  Dissenters,  old  maids,  unpaid 
bills,  and  papa;  her  ambition,  to  marry  off  her 
daughters. 

THE  DAUGHTERS 

There  are  six  of  them,  —  the  Ladies  Portia, 
Muriel,  Ermentrude,  Elizabeth,  Florence,  and 
Violet  Beauchamp.  Portia  is  twenty-eight  and 

6 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Violet  fourteen.  It  is  no  use  for  a  scientist  like 
me  to  deny  that  they  are  mostly  nose. 

As  their  elder  brother  gets  all  the  money  and 
the  estates  when  my  uncle  dies,  it  appears  that 
the  girls  won't  have  a  sou  for  their  dowry.  No 
one  does,  in  fact,  have  anything  for  a  dowry  here 
in  England.  Whoever  marries  you  must  do  so 
because  he  has  fallen  frantically  in  love  with  you 
beforehand. 

It  seems  an  odd  idea,  doesn't  it,  to  expect  so 
much  from  your  husband  —  love  and  money  both  ? 
So,  when  I  look  at  the  girls,  poor  things,  in  the 
long  hours  when  I  sit  and  talk  French  with  them 
(two  hours  a  day  apiece  !),  I  feel  quite  sorry  for 
Aunt  Elizabeth.  And  I  try  to  be  very  philo- 
sophical with  her  for  being  so  worried  and  dis- 
agreeable and  snappish  all  the  time.  When  you 
already  have  six  ugly,  dowerless  girls  on  your 
hands  to  marry  off,  Mon  Dieu!  fancy  how  dis- 
gusting it  must  be  suddenly  to  have  a  seventh 
one  palmed  off  on  you  ! 

LILI  (that's  me) 

Two  big  black  eyes,  like  the  pools  made  by  a 
tipped-over  inkstand ;  hair  like  the  tail  of  a  black 

7 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

trotter  (or  whatever  it  is,  —  the  kind  of  horses  they 
don't  dock) ;  skin  dark  like  one  of  the  harvesters 
that  come  up  from  the  Midi  in  the  autumn ;  and, 
as  though  that  weren't  enough,  two  cheeks  red 
like  those  of  a  Norman  fisherwoman  !  Oh,  the 
nights  and  nights  I  have  sobbed  myself  to  sleep, 
at  home  and  then  at  school ! 

Noire  comme  une  taupe  —  it  seems  to  me  those 
are  the  first  words  I  can  remember  hearing  — 
whispered  of  course  respectfully  behind  the  back 
of  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres.  But  later,  at 
the  convent  of  Saint  Veronica,  I  can  promise  you 
that  the  girls  were  not  so  delicate,  —  "Black  as 
a  fieldmouse,"  or  just  "Mole,"  short  like  that; 
at  the  least  little  bit  of  difference  of  opinion,  that's 
the  way  they'd  fight  back  at  me.  And  for  reply, 
what  was  there  to  say  ?  There  was  not  a  girl 
in  the  school  —  except  one  from  the  lie  des  Sau- 
vages  —  as  dark  as  I.  And  —  oh,  there  were 
two  or  three  real  blondes  ! 

Beautiful,  fairylike  creatures  they  were,  with 
pale  yellow  hair  and  skin  white  like  snow  —  and 
oh,  how  proud  they  were  !  What  did  it  matter 
if  their  figures  were  fat  and  dumpy  like  Aunt 
Elizabeth's,  and  one  —  the  blondest  of  all  — 


HER  WORD.'OF  HONOR 

showed  only  two  holes  for  a  nose,  like  an  ancient 
Hun,  because  it  turned  up  so  ?  But  they  were 
blondes,  and  that  was  enough.  At  the  opera  the 
prima  donna  was  always  blonde,  and  all  the  chorus 
in  beautiful  curly  yellow  wigs.  The  dark  one, 
the  growling  contralto,  was  always  in  trouble  all 
the  way  through,  and  killed  herself  in  the  last 
act.  In  the  romances  that  I  read  (at  home  in 
papa's  library,  not  at  school,  of  course  !),  it  was 
the  same  way.  The  heroine  always  fascinated 
the  hero  with  the  glimmer  of  her  golden  hair, 
and  later  on  (about  Chapter  XX)  always  clasped 
him  in  her  milk-white  arms.  But  —  bah  !  what 
hero  ever  wanted  to  be  clasped  in  arms  the  color 
of  cafe  au  lait  ?  Helen  of  Troy  was  blonde.  Har- 
riet in  the  miniature  was  blonde  like  the  wheat  ears. 
All  the  favors  of  Fortune  were  for  the  blondes, 
so  much  was  easy  to  see.  It  was  the  more  pro- 
voking because  in  the  mirror  I  could  see  quite 
plainly,  if  it  weren't  for  my  hideous  "black  as  a 
mole,"  I  really  shouldn't  be  plain  at  all. 

However,  there  was  nothing  to  do  about  it,  - 
except  rice  powder  and  golden  bleach,  which  are 
not  for  young  girls,  —  so  I  consoled  myself,  like 
every  other  ugly  woman  since  Madame  de  Stael, 

9 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

by  trying  to  be  intelligent.  Ah  !  that  went  better. 
At  school  I  enraged  my  tutors  with  the  questions 
I  asked ;  at  home  I  made  dear  papa's  hair  bristle 
even  more  than  the  white  cavalry  brosse  he  wore. 
When  I  came  home  from  the  convent  two  years 
ago  (eighteen  I  was;  I  am  twenty  now),  I  read 
every  book  that  papa's  library  held.  When  we 
went  to  Paris,  I  copied  the  American  girls  we  saw 
in  the  theater  and  in  the  Acacias  ("  Chic  types," 
papa  said,  the  Americans  !).  And,  even  though 
I  may  not  succeed  in  being  a  chic  type,  at  least  I 
am  not  a  little  white  goose  like  the  other  French 
young  girls,  —  ah,  no  !  —  for  example  ! 

And  very  lucky,  too,  since  Fate  has  whisked  me 
away  from  my  dear  France,  where  one's  parents 
bring  up  a  proper  candidate  for  a  husband  at  the 
proper  moment;  then  there  is  a  chic  wedding  at 
the  Madeleine  and  —  crac !  there  you  are  all  es- 
tablished for  your  life.  But  here  in  England 
where  it  is  necessary  to  do  all  that  work  yourself, 
to  fascinate  a  young  man  (and  a  young  man  with 
money,  at  that),  and  to  have  him  ask  you  for  your 
hand  to  your  own  face,  without  your  parents  talk- 
ing to  him,  or  any  preliminaries  like  that,  —  where 
you  have  to  go  through  so  much  before  you  can 

10 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

even  start  life  with  a  husband  of  your  own  and 
"  Mrs."  on  your  cards  —  why,  the  more  experience 
you  can  have  beforehand,  even  in  books,  the 
better. 

But  Lili,  my  poor  child,  of  what  do  you  rave  ? 
What  can  experience  matter  to  you,  who  have  no 
dowry  for  a  French  marriage  and  no  beauty  for 
an  English  one  —  if,  then,  that  exists  at  all,  the 
English  marriage  ?  I  have  heard  my  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth say  a  dozen  times,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
that  there  are  no  husbands  left  in  England.  It 
appears  that  half  the  young  men  go  to  the  colonies 
and  the  other  half  marry  chorus  girls  or  Americans 
(those  "  chic  types"  !).  And  as  for  those  who  are 
left,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  few  specimens  I 
have  seen  here  at  Brent  Castle,  they  don't  want  to 
get  married  at  all.  They  yawn,  and  keep  up  a  sort 
of  grunting  conversation  together  about  politics ; 
and  they  pay  little  attention  to  the  girls,  and  their 
tennis,  and  their  tea,  and  their  giggling  attempts 
at  fascination.  And  it  is  a  fact  that  in  all  the 
two  months  since  I  have  been  at  Brent,  no  young 
man,  rich  or  poor,  has  proposed  for  the  hand  of 
Lady  Portia,  or  Lady  Muriel,  or  Lady  Ermentrude, 
or  Lady  Elizabeth,  or  Lady  Florence,  or  Lady 

II 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

Violet.  And  certainly  no  one  has  proposed  for 
the  brown  paw  of  Lili  ! 

It  is  disheartening,  is  it  not  ?  —  when  one  con- 
siders what  marriage  is  for  a  young  girl :  in  itself 
an  annoying  ordeal,  evidently,  like  those  horrible 
examinations  at  Saint-Cyr  that  I  have  heard  my 
cousins  groan  about ;  but  necessary,  necessary  ! 
if  one  intends  to  be  a  woman  of  the  world  or  an 
officer  of  the  French  army.  Ah  !  if  there  were 
some  other  way  for  a  young  girl  to  achieve  place 
and  liberty  ! 

But  there's  not.  And  in  England  there's  not 
even  that.  So  I  needn't  worry.  Or,  if  I  do 
worry,  it  will  be  rather  over  the  prospect  I  see 
stretching  before  me,  of  eighty  long  years  (I'm 
so  healthy,  I'll  probably  live  to  be  a  hundred) 
here  at  Brent,  braiding  the  tresses  of  Saint 
Catharine  and  talking  French  with  the  six  girls, 
two  hours  apiece  every  day. 

Oh,  my  husband,  wherever  you  are,  come  and 
marry  me  !  Bald-headed,  double-chinned,  loud- 
voiced,  stupid  —  whatever  you  are,  I'm  sure  you 
can't  be  so  unutterably  stupid  as  life  here  at 
Brent ! 


12 


CHAPTER    II 

I  WILL  hold  on  to  the  top  of  my  head  with 
one  hand,  and  write  very  carefully  with  the 
other.  For  it  turns,  my  poor  head.  Mon  Dieu  ! 
how  much  has  happened  to-day,  both  inside  of  it 
and  out ! 

Events,  then  ideas  !  I  will  set  them  down, 
the  most  important  at  the  last. 

First,  then,  this  morning  there  arrived  from 
Paris  a  package  sealed  and  addressed  to  Made- 
moiselle de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny,  in  the  care  of 
the  Duke  of  Porthaven.  Inside  it  was  more  im- 
portant yet,  —  two  Bank  of  England  notes,  for  a 
hundred  pounds  apiece,  just  five  thousand  francs; 
then  quite  a  little  box  of  gold  sovereigns  —  an- 
other thousand  francs,  nearly.  Never  in  my  life 
had  I  seen  so  much  money,  all  at  once.  And 
papa's  old  lawyer  in  Paris  had  told  me  I  was  poor  ! 

His  letter,  which  I  found  also  inside  the  package, 
told  me  that  here,  after  selling  all  papa's  prop- 
erty, and  paying  all  his  debts,  was  the  amount  that 
remained.  The  letter  was  very  apologetic,  as 

13 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

though  it  inclosed  about  six  sous.  Six  thousand 
francs  !  I  am  quite  sure  one  can  do  a  lot  of 
things  with  so  much  money  as  that.  Darling 
papa,  wherever  you  are,  don't  worry  about  your 
Lili !  You  didn't  leave  her  so  poor,  after  all ! 

And  so,  thinking  about  papa,  as  I  naturally 
did  at  the  sight  of  this  little  inheritance,  and  per- 
haps crying  a  little,  too,  I  didn't  feel  very  much 
like  going  to  the  flower  show  at  Brentpool  that 
Aunt  Elizabeth  had  promised  to  take  me  to  that 
afternoon.  However,  she  insisted.  She  said  it 
was  an  informal,  scraggly,  parvenu  sort  of  thing; 
that  a  person  in  the  deepest  mourning  could  go  to 
without  shocking  people  (as  though  that  were 
what  I  cared  about !) ;  and  that  if  I  didn't  begin 
to  go  around  a  little  bit,  people  would  say  she 
wasn't  doing  her  duty  by  her  sister's  child.  Be- 
sides, it  seemed  that  the  new  American  beauty 
was  to  be  there,  who  had  been  the  rage  for  house- 
parties  all  this  winter,  and  is  to  be  presented  at 
Court  next  week  at  the  opening  of  the  season. 
The  girls  were  all  enjoined  to  study  her  carefully 
and  see  if  they  could  fathom  the  secret  of  her  fas- 
cination. For  it  appears  that,  although  she  is 
quite  poor  (for  an  American  !),  every  one  is  wild 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

to  marry  her,  and  she  can  be  a  Duchess  or  a  Mar- 
chioness or  anything  she  chooses,  any  day  that 
she  condescends  to  say  the  word. 

Aunt  Elizabeth  quite  gnashed  her  teeth  as  she 
spoke  of  this  intruder.  "Why  don't  they  stay 
at  home  and  marry  their  own  men,  these  American 
girls  ?"  she  inquired  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 
"  What  on  earth  becomes  of  all  the  superfluous 
men  over  there  is  what  I  can't  understand.  Cer- 
tainly, they  don't  come  over  here  and  marry  our 
poor  girls  !" 

So  we  went  to  the  flower  show.  The  flowers 
were  certainly  beautiful ;  but  no  one  seemed  to 
be  looking  at  them  very  much.  There  were 
about  five  hundred  ladies  there,  all  dressed  in  the 
greeny  blue  and  faded  pink  and  dusty-looking 
white  that  Englishwomen  seem  to  choose  for 
their  tailor-mades.  There  were,  besides,  about 
twenty-five  gentlemen.  Oh,  how  wistfully  my 
aunt,  and  the  girls,  and  all  the  other  ladies,  looked 
at  them  !  But  they  weren't  looking  at  anybody. 
They  were  all  in  a  cluster  in  one  corner  of  the 
conservatory,  with  their  backs  to  the  flowers  — 
and  to  the  Duchess,  too.  If  I  had  been  Aunt 
Elizabeth,  I  should  have  collected  my  band  of 

IS 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

ugly  girls  and  come  straight  away.  But  she 
stayed  and  raged  to  the  flock  of  satellite  ladies  — 
and  clergymen  — that  swarmed  about  her.  "  It's 
that  American  !"  she  exclaimed  bitterly.  "Now, 
that's  what  I  call  an  outrage  !" 

The  American  beauty  !  I  craned  my  neck ;  but 
the  wall  of  black  and  scarlet  coats  was  too  thick 
to  give  me  a  glance  of  the  wonderful  magnet  that 
held  them  there.  However,  I  had  nowhere  to 
go  and  no  one  to  talk  to ;  so  I  had  no  choice  but 
to  stand  there  and  wait  and  wonder  what  it  would 
be  like  to  be  a  beauty  like  that  and  only  have  to 
choose  whether  you  would  be  a  Duchess  or  a 
Marchioness  for  the  rest  of  your  life.  What  was 
she  like,  this  famous  beauty  ?  I  wondered,  — • 
some  marvelous,  golden-haired  creature,  white  and 
delicate  like  the  hedges  we  had  passed  on  our  drive 
from  Brent  ? 

Suddenly  the  crowd  of  coats  parted,  and  they 
all  started  down  toward  the  gardens  where  the 
tea-things  were.  And  I  s*aw  her,  the  famous 
beauty,  —  black  hair,  black  eyes,  an  arm  that 
showed  dusky  against  the  trailing  white  broad- 
cloth of  her  dress.  Noire  comme  une  taupe  —  yes, 
black  as  a  mole,  just  like  me  ! 

16 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

If  I  had  a  shock  this  morning  on  seeing  all  the 
money  that  was  coming  to  me,  imagine,  imagine.! 
what  a  strange  sensation  I  had  at  that  moment ! 
Was  it  possible,  then  —  was  it  possible  that  —  ? 

There  are  some  things  that  one  does  not  recog- 
nize all  at  once  or  even  understand.  So  I  asked 
Aunt  Elizabeth  some  questions  while  we  were 
driving  home,  all  alone  in  the  great  family  limou- 
sine. The  girls,  who  have  an  insane  thirst  for 
tramping,  were  walking  the  fifteen  kilometers 
home  with  a  fat  little  baronet  and  a  consump- 
tive millionaire  from  South  Africa. 

"  Aunt  Elizabeth,"  I  asked,  "  why  do  they  call 
that  American  girl  a  beauty  ?" 

"  Don't  ask  me  !"  snapped  the  Duchess.  "  You 
never  heard  me  call  her  one,  did  you  ?  Though 
I  own  —  oh,  yes,  she's  the  type  that  men  go  wild 
over,  fast  enough.  Those  big,  meltin'  black  eyes 
—  how  she  rolls  them,  the  snip  !" 

"  Black  eyes  !"  I  cried.  "  But  that's  just  it. 
She's  black  all  over  —  black  as  a  mole.  How 
can  any  one  see  beauty  in  a  type  black  like 
that  ?" 

Aunt  Elizabeth  stared  as  she  ruminated  the 
point.  "  Blonde  or  brunette,"  she  replied,  "what 

17 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

difference  can  that  make  if  a  girl's  a  beauty  ? 
Though  this  one  is  not  —  no,  she's  not!" 

"  Then  it's  possible,"  I  gasped,  "  for  a  girl  with 
black  hair  and  an  olive  skin  to  be  considered  a 
beauty  —  a  beauty  ?" 

"  Don't  be  a  goose,  Lili,"  retorted  my  aunt, 
peevishly.  "  I  know  your  absurd  Paris  craze  for 
blondes.  But  that's  just  because  you're  naturally 
a  dark-haired  people.  Here  in  England  blondes 
are  a  drug  on  the  market.  My  poor  girls  !" 

"  What  beautiful  golden  hair  they  have,"  I  cried, 
"  just  like  yours  ! " 

The  Duchess  quite  beamed  on  me.  "  Yes, 
poor  dears,  if  only  they  didn't  have  quite  so  much 
nose  !  But  they're  all  Beauchamp,"  she  sighed ; 
"  and  that  reminds  me  —  you  made  a  great  hit 
to-day,  Lili.  Of  course  I  couldn't  introduce  any 
one  to  you,  as  you're  not  yet  out;  but  several 
people  asked  me  who  was  the  beautiful  little  gipsy 
with  my  girls  —  Carmen,  yes,  that  is  what  Lady 
Helena's  husband  called  you.  So  I've  about  made 
up  my  mind  — " 

Me,  Lili,  called  a  beauty !  The  fascinating, 
fatal  Carmen  —  I  !  My  head  turned  giddy.  I 
wanted  to  laugh  and  to  cry  all  at  once.  What 

18 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

lovely  thing  was  coming  to  me  now  ?  What  had 
Aunt  Elizabeth  made  up  her  mind  to  do  for  me  ? 

"  I  have  about  decided,"  she  went  on  calmly, 
"  that,  in  common  justice  to  my  poor  darlin's, 
I  cannot  expose  them  to  such  competition  as  their 
cousin's.  You  see,  I  am  frank  with  you,  darlin' 
child  !  And  you  saw  for  yourself  how  that  Miss 
Carroll  carried  off  all  the  men  to-day  —  every  one  ! 
Now,  you  look  just  like  her  —  far  prettier  than 
she,  in  fact,  or  would  be  if  you  were  properly 
dressed.  Your  hair  is  wavy  and  fine,  where  hers 
is  coarse  like  an  Indian's,  and  you  have  a  figger 
that  is  divvy,  positively  divvy !  Yes,  my  poor 
love,  you  are  a  beauty  of  the  most  impossibly 
obvious  sort,  like  the  advertisin'  poster  of  an 
actress ;  and  to  keep  you  in  the  house  would  be 
to  ruin  forever  my  poor  girls'  chances  of  a  settle- 
ment in  life.  So,  in  common  justice  to  them, 
dear  child,  I  have  just  this  moment  made  up  my 
mind  to  send  you  away  to  the  country." 

"  The  country,  Aunt  Elizabeth  ?  But  isn't 
this  the  country?' 

"  Yes,  at  this  season,  my  dear,  when  everybody 
is  going  up  to  London.  I  had  half  intended  to 
take  you,  too ;  but  now  I  realize  it  would  be  most 

19 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

unwise.  So  I  leave  you  here  with  Portia  —  poor 
Portia  !  Later,  when  the  huntin'  season  begins 
and  the  castle  is  full  of  people,  I'll  send  you  to 
stay  with  an  old  cousin  of  your  uncle's,  —  a  dear 
old  lady,  quite  deaf,  who  lives  by  herself  in  a 
magnificent  old  place  in  Norfolk,  with  a  park  ten 
miles  around  — " 

"To  stay  —  how  long,  ma  tante?"  I  inquired 
unsteadily. 

•  "  Dear,  affectionate  child  !  Sometimes  you 
shall  come  home  to  visit  us,  I  promise  you.  And 
when  your  cousins  are  all  married,  I'll  take  you  up 
to  London,  and  present  you,  and  give  you  a  season 
in  town,  all  for  yourself  —  won't  that  be  nice,  dear 
Lili  ?  With  your  beauty,  what  a  success  you  will 
make  and  what  a  match  !" 

I  sat  quite  still,  frozen  with  horror.  Six  hus- 
bands with  money  to  be  found  in  this  manless 
England,  for  six  plain,  priggish,  opinionated  girls 
-  and  till  the  sixth  and  last  of  these  black  swans 
was  found,  I  am  to  be  shut  up  in  prison  !  That 
house  in  the  middle  of  the  woods,  that  deaf,  soli- 
tary old  lady,  —  is  that  what  my  life  is  to  be,  all 
the  years  and  the  years  and  the  years  ?  I  can't 
stand  it  —  no,  I  cannot ! 

20 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  What  a  color  you  have,  my  dear  Lili,"  ob- 
served my  aunt,  putting  up  her  lorgnon  with  the 
most  placid  admiration,  "  like  a  crimson  rose ! 
And  how  your  black  eyes  snap  and  shine  !  Yes, 
the  true  type  of  Carmen.  And  —  Heavens," 
she  cried  suddenly,  "  and  there's  my  darlin' 
Stokeville  coming  home  next  week  !  Suppose  he 
fell  in  love  with  you  ?  The  dear  boy  is  so  im- 
pressionable and  generous  hearted,  —  what  a 
mercy  I  realized  the  danger  in  time  !  So  I  think, 
dear  little  Frenchwoman,  we  will  pack  you  off 
for  Cousin  Lucretia's  to-morrow.  And  as  I  in- 
tend to  invite  Sir  Frederick  and  Mr.  Kluger  to 
dine  to-night,  I  think  we  must  ask  our  little 
Carmen  to  stay  up-stairs  and  dine  with  the  gov- 
erness." 

That  night,  after  the  governess  had  practiced 
her  French  on  me  long  enough,  and  finally  said 
good  night,  I  sat  late  in  my  room  and  thought. 
My  poor  old  Genevieve,  who  used  to  be  my  nurse 
and  then  my  maid,  who  followed  me  here  from 
France,  came  in  for  a  moment  to  brush  my  hair. 
It's  not  often  she  gets  the  chance  since  she  ar- 
rived at  Brent.  Aunt  Elizabeth  has  taken  her 
over  to  be  maid  to  Muriel  and  Ermentrude  — 

21 


HER   WORD   OF   HONOR 

of  course,  a  Duchess  has  a  right  to  do  as  she  chooses 
in  her  own  castle ;  but  it  is  hard  on  poor  old  Gene- 
vieve. 

I  explained  to  her  in  a  few  words  that  instead 
of  going  up  to  London  with  her  and  those  ladies, 
I  was  going  to  be  sent  away  alone,  into  the  coun- 
try. Never  did  I  see  any  one  fly  into  such  a  rage 
as  Genevieve. 

"  And  does  Madame  the  Duchesse  figure  to 
herself  I  will  accept  another  sou  of  her  money,  to 
be  separated  forever  from  Mademoiselle  ?"  she 
cried.  "  Bon  Dieu  des  bois  !  Let  her  go  then  and 
brush  herself,  Madame  the  Duchesse !  As  for 
me,  I've  no  more  need  of  wages  —  I  have  my 
economies  in  the  bank  at  Fontainebleau.  And 
when  Mademoiselle  departs  to-morrow,  I  depart 
with  her.  And  if  Mademoiselle  takes  my  ad- 
vice, we  go,  not  to  the  cemetery  where  they 
propose  to  inter  her,  but  to  — " 

Here  was  a  new  idea.  "  Where,  then,  Gene- 
vieve ?" 

"  Back  to  France  —  to  the  moon  !  How  do  I 
know  ?  It  is  for  Mademoiselle  to  decide  and  I 
follow  her  —  I,  Genevieve  !" 

A  sharp  knock  came  on  the  door.     "  Genevieve, 

22 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

what  are  you  doing  here  ?     Lady  Muriel  is  asking 
for  you." 

Genevieve  gritted  her  teeth  and  went.  But  she 
left  an  idea  in  my  brain,  which  somehow  fitted 
in  like  a  key  with  all  the  other  ideas  this  wonder- 
ful day  had  brought  me.  I'm  not  poor.  I've 
six  thousand  francs,  all  my  own  to  spend  as  I 
choose.  I'm  not  ugly ;  I'm  a  beauty  —  at  least 
outside  of  my  dear  France.  Turn  my  back  on 
the  prison  they  propose  for  me  and  run  away 
with  Genevieve  into  the  big  world  to  try  my 
fortune  —  why  not  ?  But  where,  where  should 
we  go  ?  Not  to  London,  because  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth herself  is  going  there  and  she  would  soon  find 
me  and  bundle  me  off  to  the  old  lady  in  the  forest 
ten  miles  around.  Not  to  my  dear  France,  because 
my  Vauquieres  relations  are  so  sharp  they'd  catch 
me  before  a  week  was  out  and  pack  me  off  to 
Aunt  Elizabeth's  again  —  Aunt  Elizabeth,  who, 
after  all,  doesn't  want  me.  For  money  is  scarce, 
cruelly  scarce,  in  this  splendid  old  chateau,  and 
girls  are  plentiful  —  cruelly  plentiful.  I'm  a  bur- 
den here,  taking  the  bread  and  butter  out  of  my 
cousins'  mouths,  and  in  danger  evidently  of  taking 
away  their  husbands  before  they  even  have  them. 

23 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  Not  Wanted,"  —  that's  the  mark  I  saw  on  a 
pile  of  trunks  on  the  steamer  when  I  crossed  the 
Channel;  and  that's  the  mark  that  Lili  wears, 
as  plain  as  print,  here  at  Brent.  And  at  Lady 
Lucretia's  who  can  tell  if  it  would  be  different, 
even  if  I  could  make  up  my  mind  to  stand  the 
life  there  ?  To  spend  all  the  years  of  my  youth 
in  the  country,  reading  English  books  aloud  to  a 
deaf  old  lady,  and  counting  the  leaves  on  the 
trees  —  no,  I  can't,  I  can't !  I'm  a  living  creature, 
not  a  pink,  bony  statue  like  Portia  and  Ermen- 
trude  !  Aunt  Elizabeth  this  afternoon  called  me 
Carmen.  That's  all  very  good,  but  I  don't  think 
I  could  ever  break  my  word  to  any  one  the  way 
Carmen  did,  and  certainly  she  came  to  a  bad 
end  —  but  while  she  lived,  she  lived. 

Ah,  love  and  delight  and  passionate  despair  — 
ah,  dancing  and  tears  and  laughter  !  That's  what 
life  is  made  up  of,  not  long,  slow  years  of  doing 
nothing  and  being  nothing,  petrifying  before  you're 
dead,  like  Portia  !  No,  I  won't  stay  —  I'll  run 
away  to-morrow  ! 

But  where  ?  That  was  the  question  to  which  I 
found  no  answer.  I  opened  my  writing  desk  and 
took  out  papa's  miniature,  the  one  he  had  made 

24 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

when  he  was  a  young  man,  the  one  I  love  best  of 
all,  and  say  my  prayers  to  when  I'm  in  trouble. 

"  Darling  papa,"  I  whispered,  "  nobody  wants 
your  Lili  here,  nor  cares  whether  she  is  good  or 
bad,  alive  or  dead.  They're  sending  her  off  into 
prison  —  oh,  don't  say  she  has  to  go  !  Tell  her 
where  thou  wouldst  have  her  go,  my  adored 
little  papa." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  miniature  smiled  at 
me  —  the  dear  old  familiar  smile.  The  tears 
came  into  my  eyes,  and  as  I  tried  to  wink  them 
back  my  glance  fell  —  fell  on  the  bundle  of  old 
letters  that  I  had  used  to  prop  up  the  little  por- 
trait. There,  where  my  eye  fell,  was  written  an 
address,  in  a  delicate,  old-fashioned  hand,  faded, 
but  as  plain  as  print :  — 

"  14  East  Tenth  Street,  New  York  City." 

Of  course  I  am  not  superstitious  —  I  who  am 
trying  to  be  a  philosopher.  But  those  words  came 
to  me  like  an  answer  from  papa,  and  I  could  not 
but  take  it  as  such.  Harriet's  address  !  Why 
had  I  never  thought  of  her  before  ?  The  lady  who 
had  known  papa  and  loved  him ;  and  whom 
he  had  loved  —  oh,  so  faithfully !  In  all  the 

25 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

world  where  could  I  hope  to  find  a  better  friend 
than  she  ? 

To  be  sure,  there  was  the  name  signed  to  the 
letters,  "  She  who  loves  you,  HARRIET,"  and  once 
"HARRIET  WILSON,"  with  the  address  as  plain 
as  any  directory.  And  in  her  own  house,  would 
not  her  name  be  enough  ?  I  took  up  her  miniature 
and  looked  at  it  for  a  long  time.  How  tender  her 
smile,  how  kind  her  eyes  !  Yes,  I  could  trust 
her,  of  so  much  I  was  sure.  If  she  had  abandoned 
papa,  it  was  all  the  chance  of  war  and  a  cruel  mis- 
take. She  would  be  good  to  papa's  daughter, 
so  much  I  knew.  —  Oh,  Harriet,  beautiful  Harriet, 
be  a  friend  to  me,  my  one  friend  in  this  big, 
bewildering  world,  and  I'll  love  you  as  my  papa 
did! 

When  a  drowning  man  sees  only  one  chance  of 
life,  that  chance  does  not  have  to  be  logically 
feasible  for  him  to  snatch  at  it.  If  Harriet  is 
dead,  or  at  the  other  end  of  the  world,  or  if  she 
is  otherwise  than  the  sweet  angel  papa  believed 
her  —  bah  !  I'll  take  my  risk  !  There's  no  dan- 
ger of  my  being  in  need  for  a  long  time,  with  such 
a  large  sum  of  money  to  do  as  I  like  with.  And 
after  it's  gone  —  well,  then,  I  can  work,  and  so 

26 


4 

HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

can  Genevieve.  I  can  embroider  beautifully, 
and  copy  water  colors,  and  even  sing  a  little. 
Those  are  all  things  that  people  make  money  at ! 
And  besides,  over  there  in  America,  as  every  one 
in  Europe  knows,  one  gains  money  so  easily  that 
it  is  like  picking  up  gold  in  the  street.  Houp-ld, 
Lili,  you  need  have  no  fear  ! 

When  poor  old  Genevieve  knocked  at  my  door 
an  hour  later,  to  say  good  night,  I  seized  her  by 
the  arm  and  dragged  her  in. 

"  Genevieve,"  I  whispered,  "  come  in  —  we'll 
pack  all  night !  And  to-morrow,  instead  of  leav- 
ing for  the  country,  we'll  take  the  early  train  for 
London.  And  Saturday,  Genevieve,  we  sail  for 
America  !" 


CHAPTER    III 

7i  /TON  DIEU!  How  strange  it  was,  that 
Ji  rJL  crossing  of  the  Atlantic,  —  from  the  first 
awful  day  when  the  sea  suddenly  stretched  its 
empty  blue  circle  around  me,  and  the  deck  began 
to  rise  and  sink  again  under  my  feet,  and  poor 
Genevieve,  leaning  her  head  against  the  rail,  cried 
out  that  she  was  dying ;  to  the  last  day,  yet  more 
awful,  when  New  York  suddenly  rose  up  out  of  the 
water,  with  its  jagged  line  like  a  mouth  with  half 
the  front  teeth  knocked  out. 

In  between  those  two  different  days,  however, 
things  happened.  When  I  say  "  things,"  of 
course  I  mean  Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb. 

The  first  day,  naturally,  I  was  too  ill  to  notice 
anything.  The  next  day,  however,  I  could  not 
help  noticing  this  lady  that  had  so  many  people 
occupied  with  her  all  the  time,  —  maids,  and 
couriers,  and  stewards,  even  the  commander 
himself  in  his  wonderful,  gold-braided  uniform. 
Though  certainly  she  didn't  look  like  an  invalid : 
she  was  a  large,  powerful  woman,  laced  into  the 

28 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

kind  of  corset  one  sees  advertised  in  Illustration, 
all  straps  and  buckles  for  harnessing  the  fat  over 
into  another  place  from  where  it  belongs.  Her 
head  wasn't  bad,  with  the  hair  very  nicely  un- 
dulated and  the  face  enameled ;  but  certainly  not 
pretty  enough  to  justify  the  fuss  that  was  made 
about  her  all  the  time.  So,  naturally,  I  understood 
that  she  had  money. 

The  first  day,  though  my  chair  was  squeezed 
close  up  to  hers,  she  didn't  even  see  me.  The 
second  day  the  wind  took  my  handkerchief  —  one 
of  my  pretty  embroidered  ones  that  I  brought 
from  France  —  and  blew  it  across  the  arm  of 
her  chair.  I  turned  to  find  her  staring  at  it,  with 
her  pale  blue  eyes,  which  are  prominent  enough 
anyway,  nearly  popping  from  her  head.  A  sud- 
den thought  went  through  me  like  a  knife.  "  She 
has  recognized  the  initials,"  I  said  to  myself, 
"and  it's  Harriet!" 

The  next  instant  I  saw  that  I  had  quite  need- 
lessly insulted  my  poor  papa's  taste.  It  wasn't 
the  initials  she  was  staring  at,  but  the  embroidered 
coronet  above  them.  Having  spent  three  months 
in  England  and  seeing  how  people  loved  Aunt 

Elizabeth    for   being    a    Duchess,    I    understood 

29 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

what  a  coronet  meant  to  this  Anglo-Saxon  lady. 
And,  just  to  help  along  the  good  impression,  I 
was  very  short  and  cool  in  my  answers  to  her 
questions.  Then  I  turned  over  in  my  chair  and 
pretended  to  go  to  sleep  with  as  calm  a  majesty 
as  if  I  had  lots  of  woolly  wraps  to  wind  myself  in, 
like  her,  and  several  billion  francs  waiting  for  me 
in  the  bank  in  the  unknown  new  world  where  we 
were  going. 

Though  —  oh  !  I  was  freezing  to  death ;  for 
how  could  a  person  who  was  the  first  one  of  their 
family  in  a  thousand  years  to  put  to  sea,  think 
of  bringing  winter  clothes  with  them  in  June  ? 
And  as  for  money  —  though  of  course  I  wrote 
back  to  Aunt  Elizabeth  that  I  was  amply  pro- 
vided for,  the  fact  remained  that,  after  buying 
my  clothes  in  London,  and  the  two  tickets  for 
Genevieve  and  me,  I  had  less  than  five  hundred 
francs  in  my  purse.  Who  would  have  believed 
money  could  flow  away  so  quickly  ?  However, 
soon  we  would  be  with  the  lady  that  papa  loved 
so  dearly  and  who  loved  him.  So  I  pulled  my 
white  pique  skirt  down  over  my  ankles  and  tried 
to  pretend  I  was  warm  enough  to  sleep. 

The  next  instant  I  felt  a  soft,  warm  rug  drop 
30 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

over  me,  while  another  pair  of  hands  wrapped 
a  woolly  kind  of  cloak  about  my  shoulders.  I 
opened  my  eyes  —  it  was  the  two  maids  of 
Madame  Cobb  who  were  occupying  themselves 
with  me,  while  her  two  little  dogs  tinkled  their 
bells  quite  neglected  on  the  deck;  and  she  her- 
self was  beaming  at  me,  and  holding  out  a  glass 
of  champagne. 

"  The  best  thing  in  the  world  for  seasickness, 
dear  child,"  she  said,  "  and  you  will  forgive  my 
maids  for  the  liberty  they  took,  won't  you  ?  But 
these  north  winds  are  cold,  for  a  little  tropical 
beauty  like  you  !  And  tell  me  —  V.  C.  —  are 
you  the  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny, 
Paris,  whose  name  is  down  in  the  passenger 
list?" 

I  jumped  at  being  so  easily  recognized;  but, 
after  all,  the  letters  were  of  course  the  same. 
Fancy  how  well  she  must  have  known  the  list, 
that  lady,  to  recognize  the  initials  offhand  that 
way  when  she  just  saw  them  embroidered  on  a 
handkerchief  !  So,  as  there  was  no  particular  use 
in  denying  my  identity,  I  answered  in  a  cool  tone, 
like  Aunt  Elizabeth  :  — 

"  Yes." 

31 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"Ah!"  Her  blue  eyes  enlarged  themselves, 
and  she  stared  me  up  and  down.  "  And  I  beg 
your  pardon,  but  do  tell  me,  is  that  an  ancestress 
of  yours,  whose  name  one  sees  under  that  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  in  the  tomb  of  Louis  XVI  ?  And  is 
he  any  relation  to  you,  the  Vicomte  de  Vauquieres 
de  Clugny,  who  is  president  of  the  Club  of  the 
lie  de  Puteaux  ? " 

I  answered  yes  to  both  questions ;  though  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  Uncle  Dominique  hadn't  been  so 
nice  to  me  that  I  should  be  very  keen  to  own  him. 
However,  one  can't  deny  one's  family,  and  the 
droll  thing  was  my  new  friend  was  perfectly  de- 
lighted to  hear  I  was  the  niece  of  the  lie  de  Pu- 
teaux, and  immediately  opened  a  large  box  of 
marrons  glaces,  and  told  me  I  was  the  image  of 
Lina  Cavalieri,  only  prettier.  (Me  !  noire  comme 
une  taupe  !  But  it's  certainly  true  that  people  do 
stare.  I  pretend  to  be  annoyed,  of  course;  but 
in  reality,  what  joy  !) 

So,  after  that  the  voyage  was  pleasanter. 
Aunt  Elizabeth,  naturally,  would  scream  at  the 
notion  of  my  making  friends  with  a  stranger; 
and  certainly  I  must  own  that  Madame  Cobb  has 
not  that  exquisite  air  of  the  ladies  at  Brent.  She 

32 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

is  very  chic,  so  much  cannot  be  denied,  and  clever 
as  a  Parisian  market  woman.  Perhaps  that  is 
what  makes  the  difference ;  she  is  almost  too 
clever,  too  eager,  too  continually  straining,  you 
hardly  know  for  what.  Her  eyes,  though  they 
smile,  are  always  watching;  her  hands,  generous 
and  kind  as  they  are,  seem  always  ready  to  pounce. 
Pounce  ?  How  and  why  ?  Wherever,  probably, 
they  could  get  the  chance.  Just  as  they  pounced 
on  Aunt  Elizabeth's  card,  the  day  after  our  first 
acquaintance.  If  her  eyes  had  popped  from  her 
head  at  the  sight  of  a  coronet  on  a  handkerchief, 
imagine  how  they  bulged  at  nobility  on  a  visiting 
card,  and  a  ducal  title,  into  the  bargain. 

"Do  you  know  this  lady?"  she  asked  in  a 
little  voice,  like  Genevieve  when  she  speaks  of 
France. 

After  all,  why  should  I  not  tell  the  truth  ?  I 
was  not  traveling  incognito,  and  there  was  small 
danger  of  pursuit  —  alas  !  And  besides,  travelers 
with  less  than  five  hundred  francs  in  the  purse 
must  stick  the  best  foot  forward  and  keep  it  out. 

"  The  Duchess  of  Porthaven  is  my  aunt,"  I 
answered. 

Crac  !  There  you  have  it,  the  turning  point  in 
33 


my  history,  the  ending  of  my  old  troubles,  the  be- 
ginning of  my  new  ones.  And  even  at  the  mo- 
ment, one  saw  that  something  had  happened  that 
was  out  of  the  ordinary.  Mrs.  Cobb  turned  pink, 
and  looked  at  me  as  though  she  were  going  to 
cry. 

"Your  aunt!"  she  said.  "The  Duchess  of 
Porthaven,  the  Queen's  intimate  friend!"  she 
stopped  short,  and  seemed  to  be  trying  to  control 
herself.  "  I  went  about  a  little  in  London  society 
this  past  month,"  she  said,  "  and  I  heard  the 
Duchess  talked  of,  quite  some ;  but  I  never  met 
her."  She  sighed,  and  kept  on  gazing  at  me  with 
an  excited  sort  of  look  in  the  eyes. 

What  would  have  happened  if  the  shaft  of  the 
steamer,  or  some  other  such  thing,  hadn't  broken 
about  this  time,  I  cannot  tell  you.  However, 
something  did  break,  and  there  we  were  plaques 
in  the  middle  of  the  ocean.  The  captain  told  us 
all  about  it  at  dinner,  and  explained  that  we 
should  have  to  be  patient  a  day  or  two  till  the 
tug  he  had  telegraphed  for  had  arrived  from  New 
York. 

Some  of  the  people  grumbled.  I  didn't,  be  sure 
of  that !  Already  the  ship  had  begun  to  feel  like 

34 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

home,  and  the  thought  of  New  York  frightened 
me  a  little  tiny,  tiny  bit  as  we  drew  nearer.  The 
ship  had  begun,  in  fact,  to  feel  like  something 
more  than  home,  if  my  latest  experience  was  to 
be  taken  as  my  standard.  At  Brent  I  was  a  kind 
of  under-governess.  Here  on  the  ship,  thanks 
to  Mrs.  Cobb's  tongue,  I  began  to  find  myself 
a  personage !  Who  would  have  thought  Aunt 
Elizabeth's  name  could  have  such  an  influence  ? 
The  ladies,  who  at  first  let  me  severely  alone, 
came  up  and  gushed  over  me.  The  young  men, 
who  made  eyes  at  me  when  I  walked  up  and 
down  the  deck  or  sat  at  the  table  alone,  were 
now  brought  up  by  their  mothers  and  presented 
to  me.  And  it's  the  Duchess  here  and  the  Duch- 
ess there,  and  the  Drawing-room,  and  the  lie  de 
Puteaux,  till  I  really  have  to  laugh  at  the  joke 
on  my  illustrious  relatives.  Whether  they  want 
to  or  not,  they  have  to  stand  by  Lili !  The 
only  vexatious  thing  is  to  see  that,  if  this  sort  of 
thing  goes  on,  the  news  of  my  whereabouts  will 
get  back  to  them,  and  then  perhaps  I  shall  be 
pulled  back  across  the  ocean  again,  like  a  bad 
little  dog  that  has  run  away  from  the  concierge  who 
was  giving  it  the  air,  when  she  gets  hold  of  its  leash. 

35 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

For  it's  no  joke  —  I  found  myself  becoming 
celebrated,  in  the  most  inconvenient  way.  No 
sooner  had  the  wireless,  which  was  always  snap- 
ping and  crackling  on  the  upper  deck,  finally 
brought  the  tugs  to  our  assistance,  than  they  began 
to  occupy  themselves  with  me  —  fancy,  with  me, 
Lili !  Every  day  I  was  interviewed  ;  it  appeared 
there  were  shoals  of  reporters  on  the  vessel. 
Whether  or  not  I  ought  to  answer  I  didn't  know ; 
but  Mrs.  Cobb  told  me  it  didn't  matter :  what  I 
didn't  say  they  would  make  up,  anyway.  One 
thing,  however,  I  refused  to  tell  them,  and  that 
was  the  object  of  my  voyage  to  America.  "  Mys- 
terious voyage  of  a  young  lady  of  quality"  —  that 
was  the  way  one  reporter  put  it.  No,  Harriet 
was  sacred,  like  papa.  I  was  not  going  to  tell  her 
name  to  any  one,  even  to  Mrs.  Cobb. 

Whether  it  was  this  secrecy,  or  jealousy  of 
what  she  called  my  success,  it  is  certain  that  these 
last  two  days  saw  great  strides  in  our  intimacy. 
It  was  the  day  after  the  shaft  broke,  I  remember, 
that  she  invited  me  to  sit  by  her  at  table.  The 
next  day  she  invited  me  to  tea  in  her  suite,  —  a 
real  little  salon,  all  gilt  and  cupids.  She  stuffed 
me  with  large,  fat  chocolate  candies  till  I  was 

36 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

nearly  ill,  and  showed  me  the  miniature  of  the 
deceased  Mr.  Cobb,  —  a  thin,  sharp  face,  mostly 
chin.  It  appears  that  he  killed  himself  by  over- 
work, about  five  years  ago,  and  left  her  fifty- 
five  million  dollars.  She  spoke  about  him  quite 
indifferently. 

It  was  not  till  the  next  day,  when  she  invited 
me  to  move  up  from  my  dark  little  room  on  the 
lower  deck  to  one  of  the  bedrooms  in  her  suite, 
that  she  began  to  speak  of  matters  next  to  her 
heart. 

First,  a  position  in  society,  secondly,  her  son; 
those  are  her  two  passions.  When  she  speaks  of 
them,  she  keeps  moistening  her  lips  with  her 
tongue,  and  her  eyes  shine  just  like  the  heroines  of 
romance  when  they  talk  of  their  lovers  (the  novels 
in  my  Uncle  Porthaven's  library  that  I  read  with- 
out asking  permission). 

On  the  third  day  after  the  accident,  when  the 
tugs  had  arrived  and  the  steel  cables  were  tight- 
ening at  our  bow,  Mrs.  Cobb  and  I  were  already 
established  as  dear  and  intimate  friends.  And 
in  the  evening,  sitting  together  in  our  deck  chairs 
before  her  cabin  door,  she  spoke  to  me  again  of 
her  two  ambitions.  Mon  Dieu  !  Think  of  want- 

37 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

ing  to  know  certain  people,  and  go  to  certain 
houses,  as  much  as  she  does  ! 

"  I'll  get  into  the  inner  circle  if  I  have  to  drop 
dead  for  it !"  she  said,  and  tightened  up  her  jaw. 

It  appears,  after  her  husband's  death,  she  came 
to  live  in  New  York,  and  took  a  big  white  marble 
palace  right  in  the  most  chic  part  of  Fifth  Avenue. 
But  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts,  no  one  would  know 
her.  She  subscribed  to  charities,  and  sets  of 
lectures,  and  series  of  concerts,  and  all  kinds  of 
strange  things  like  that ;  but  she  never  got  in- 
vited to  put  her  foot  inside  a  single  house  —  except 
by  old  friends  from  Montana  who  had  come  to 
New  York  to  get  into  society  like  her,  who  no 
more  wanted  to  see  her  than  she  wanted  to  see 
them.  Now  and  then,  every  little  while,  one  of 
these  old  friends  would  slip  under  the  rope  like 
children  at  a  fete,  and  the  other  children  outside 
would  remain  gazing  after  as  she  lost  herself  in 
the  glittering  crowd  within,  and  asking  each  other 
however  she  had  managed  to  do  it.  In  any  case, 
the  poor  little  outsiders  would  know  that  never, 
never  again  would  they  see  their  dear  friend  more, 
unless  they  also  managed  to  squirm  under  that 
rope  and  follow  her.  For  Society,  it  appears,  has 

38 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

among  others  this  resemblance  to  Heaven,  — 
that  those  who  enter  in  never  by  any  chance  re- 
turn to  tell  those  left  outside  anything  about  it, 
and  the  only  way  to  find  out  is  to  follow  for  your- 
self —  if  you  can  find  the  chance.  And  up  to 
this  date  Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb  had  not  found 
her  chance. 

For  a  philosopher  like  me  it  was  very  droll  to 
see  how  badly  she  wanted  the  things  that  Aunt 
Elizabeth  had,  just  as  Aunt  Elizabeth  was  rack- 
ing her  brains  and  pining  for  the  things  that  Mrs. 
Cobb  has.  But  then,  what  right  have  I  to  be 
patronizing  ?  I  call  myself  a  philosopher ;  but 
I'm  looking  for  a  husband  just  the  same !  In 
fact,  I  think  about  him  all  the  time,  —  the  dull, 
fat,  good-natured  gentleman  (all  husbands  are 
like  that,  if  one  is  to  judge  from  the  romances) 
who  is  to  make  Lili  Madame,  and  give  her  a  box 
at  the  opera,  and  ravishing  toilettes,  and  heaps 
of  admirers,  and  all  the  other  things  the  married 
ladies  have. 

I  mentioned  this  one  day  to  Mrs.  Cobb.  First 
she  stared  at  me  in  a  perfectly  stupefied  way; 
then  the  color  came  up  into  her  face  just  as  it, 
did  the  day  she  first  saw  Aunt  Elizabeth's  card. 

39 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

She  looked  at  me  hard  for  a  moment  with  those 
funny,  prominent  eyes ;  then  she  began  talking 
about  her  son. 

Oh,  my  good  Victor  !  How  much  I  knew  about 
you  before  ever  these  eyes  of  mine  were  privileged 
to  rest  upon  your  perfections  !  What  a  sweet 
baby  you  were,  twenty-four  years  ago,  —  blonde 
as  the  wheat,  and  pretty  as  a  heart.  What  a 
wonderful  boy  you  were,  —  so  brilliant  that  if 
you  had  only  applied  yourself  you  could  have  done 
anything ;  but  so  sensitive  that  studying  made 
you  ill !  Tall,  handsome,  distinguished,  setting 
fashions  in  waistcoats  and  breaking  the  hearts 
of  all  the  girls,  it  appeared  that  you  were  a  boy 
to  be  proud  of.  Your  one  misfortune,  indeed,  was 
the  envy  that  your  superior  qualifications  excited 
all  about  you ;  your  one  defect,  the  ardent,  un- 
suspicious soul  that  made  you  always  the  victim 
of  designing  persons  if  —  at  this  point  Mrs.  Cobb 
stopped  short,  sniffed,  and  relapsed  into  silence. 

A  moment  later,  when  the  ship's  telegraph 
boy  arrived  with  a  wireless,  she  jumped  for  him 
as  though  he  had  been  the  precious  baby  himself. 
The  message,  however,  seemed  to  give  her  little 
satisfaction.  A  moment  later  it  was  crumpled 

40 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

into  a  ball  and  flung  out  of  the  window,  while 
Mrs.  Cobb  was  trailing  up  and  down  her  little 
salon  like  a  person  in  a  perfect  rage. 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  me.  "  What  am  I  to 
do  about  Victor  ?"  she  asked. 

Now,  naturally,  as  I  didn't  know  Victor,  and 
wasn't  a  mother  myself,  I  found  it  rather  hard  to 
know  what  to  answer.  So  I  said  the  first  thing 
that  came  into  my  head.  "  Wire  him,"  I  said.  • 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  ;  "  but  what  ?" 

To  that,  of  course,  I  couldn't  make  any  answer ; 
so  I  sat  quite  still,  like  a  little  mouse  behind  a 
trunk.  Mrs.  Cobb  sat  there  with  her  eyes  staring 
fiercely  before  her,  and  her  throat  muscles  swell- 
ing inside  the  tightly  wired  collar  of  her  expen- 
sive embroidered  dress.  Her  face  had  a  strange 
expression,  as  though  her  soul  were  uncovering 
itself;  and  suddenly  she,  of  an  age  and  race  so  far 
away  from  mine,  and  of  an  experience  so  different, 
she  whose  life  mine  had  barely  touched,  seemed 
for  the  moment  quite  near  and  real,  —  much 
nearer  than  any  of  my  own  blood  relations  at 
Brent,  who  never  showed  their  souls  or  even 
(probably)  had  any  to  uncover,  except  a  little 
tag  with  "  Ladylike"  on  it.  It  is  true,  Mrs. 

41 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

Cobb's  face  reflected  no  such  tag :  the  expression 
of  it  at  this  moment  was  harsh  and  resolute  almost 
to  cruelty.  Yet  there  was  something  in  it  that 
was  pitiful,  too;  for  one  could  see  that  her  eyes 
were  looking,  not  inward  on  her  own  affairs,  but 
outward  and  beyond  to  some  one  dearer  than 
herself. 

And  for  the  moment  as  I  looked  at  her  I  real- 
ized that,  in  spite  of  being  a  young  girl  and  a 
philosopher,  I  was  a  woman,  too.  And  for  the 
moment  within  my  soul  a  shadowy  vista  opened, 
of  mysterious  depths  that  perhaps  some  day 
might  wake  to  life  and  bring  to  my  face,  too,  that 
look  I  now  saw  on  the  woman's  face  before  me, 
—  that  look  of  wanting,  wanting  something  so 
terribly;  more  than  Aunt  Elizabeth  wanted 
money,  or  Lili  a  husband  !  Is  that  what  it  means 
to  be  a  woman,  I  asked  myself,  —  to  want  some- 
thing more  than  one  wants  one's  life,  and  know 
that  never,  never  one  will  be  able  to  have  it? 
Then  my  thoughts  passed  like  a  flash ;  for  Mrs. 
Cobb  began  to  speak. 

"  I've  done  everything  for  that  boy,"  she  said 
violently.  "  Lord  knows  he  never  had  to  ask 
me  twice  for  anything  he  wanted;  but  now — " 

42 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

She  gulped,  clenched  her  fists,  then  came  sud- 
denly and  sat  down  by  me. 

"  It's  no  use,"  she  said,  "  I've  got  to  tell  some 
one  about  it,  and  you,  my  dear,  though  you 
are  so  young,  yet  there's  something  so  distin- 
guished and  aristocratic  about  you,  you  seem  to 
me  really  like  a  relation.  The  first  time  I  saw 
you  among  all  those  parvenus,  I  felt  sure  we  were 
going  to  be  great  friends.  And  so,  dear  child, 
I'm  going  to  open  my  heart  to  you." 

She  stopped  and  wiped  her  eyes  with  a  hand- 
kerchief that  was  all  lace  incrustations,  and  so 
reddened  her  eyes  terribly.  Then  she  gasped, 
all  in  a  rush  :  — 

"  Victor  wants  to  marry  a  showgirl,  out  of  a 
Broadway  musical  comedy!" 

"  Horrors  !"  I  cried;  though,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  had  no  idea  what  a  showgirl  was  or  where  Broad- 
way might  be.  However,  it  was  plain  that  the 
young  person  in  question  was  not  at  all  the  kind 
of  daughter-in-law  to  please  an  ambitious  mamma 
like  Mrs.  Cobb.  The  poor  woman  went  on  in  the 
same  despairing  tone  that  Aunt  Elizabeth  used  to 
use  when  she  spoke  of  her  children  not  marrying  :  — 

"  When  I  think  of  Victor  throwing  himself 
43 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

away  like  that,  —  he  with  all  his  advantages, 
so  handsome,  such  a  real  little  swell  from  the  first ! 
Why,  I  counted  on  him,  with  all  the  Cobb  mil- 
lions, to  make  a  really  big  marriage  —  a  real 
splash.  Why,  I  count  on  Victor,  on  my  beautiful 
boy,  to  land  me  in  the  inner  circle  of  society  !" 

Crac !  the  truth  was  out,  like  an  eel  out  of  a 
bag.  It  was  not  one  alone,  but  both  the  darling 
passions  of  Mrs.  Cobb's  heart  that  were  at  stake. 
Victor's  marriage  was  to  raise  not  only  himself, 
but  his  mother  as  well.  No  wonder  she  looked 
anxious,  and  bit  her  lace  handkerchief  to  bits  as 
she  went  on  dramatically  ! 

"  Is  this  to  be  allowed  ?  No  !  Now  the  time 
is  come  when  I  play  my  last  card.  Heaven  knows 
how  I  just  hate  to  do  it ;  but  I  must  save  my  baby 
boy  from  himself.  Fortunately,  his  papa  left 
me  sole  heiress  of  all  his  estate.  Knowing  the 
boy's  ardent  disposition,  Mr.  Cobb  left  him  de- 
pendent on  me  for  every  cent.  So  now  I  have 
decided.  I  shall  send  him  immediately  an  an- 
swer to  this  wireless  of  his,  in  which  I  set  down 
my  foot  quite  as  firmly  as  he  does  his'.  If  Victor 
marries  this  girl,  not  another  cent  does  he  get  from 
me;  and  at  my  death  the  Cobb  millions  all  go, 

44 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

in  a  tight  hard  will  that  he  can't  break,  for  the 
Home  for  Incurable  What-do-you-call-'ems  or 
anything  else,  I  don't  care.  Do  you  think  I  am 
right,  my  dear  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  enthusiastically ;  for  I  love 
to  see  people  firm,  even  when  I  don't  agree  with 
them.  And  in  this  case  I  did  agree  with  Mrs. 
Cobb.  That  silly  Victor,  mixing  up  his  love 
affairs  with  his  marriage  in  just  the  same  imprac- 
tical way  that  they  do  in  England  !  In  the  back 
of  my  head  an  idea  was  forming  itself  —  just 
the  ghost,  the  shadow,  of  an  idea. 

"  Then  I  have  the  approval  of  the  Duchess's 
niece  ?"  said  Mrs.  Cobb,  with  a  magnificent  air. 
"  I'm  sure  I  cannot  be  very  far  wrong.  Will  you 
be  so  very  kind,  dear  Mademoiselle,  as  to  touch 
that  little  button  in  the  wall  beside  you,  and  I  will 
write  my  wireless  to  my  darling  boy,  telling  him 
he  will  be  cut  off  without  a  cent !" 


45 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE  next  morning,  before  I  was  out  of  my 
bath,  Mrs.  Cobb  came  thumping  at  my 
door.  "  News !"  she  cried.  "  I've  got  news. 
Mademoiselle,  come,  I  beg  of  you,  come  quickly 
and  hear  the  news  !" 

So  I  scrambled  out  of  my  tub  as  quickly  as  I 
could,  and  wrapped  myself  in  a  pink  silk  wrapper 
that  I  had  bought  in  London,  —  such  a  pretty 
one,  not  at  all  suitable  for  a  young  girl,  all  em- 
broidery and  little  pink  balls.  I  didn't  even  wait 
to  brush  my  hair;  but  dashed  right  out  into  the 
salon.  Mrs.  Cobb  was  there,  waving  a  sheet  of 
paper  with  the  ship's  blue  and  red  flag  on  it.  She 
had  no  hair  on,  just  a  tight,  sandy  knob  at  the 
back  of  her  head,  and  her  face  not  even  powdered. 
Yet  for  all  that  she  looked  almost  young  and  more 
nearly  pretty  than  I  had  ever  seen  her  before. 

"  He's  knuckled  under  !"  she  shouted,  just  like 
a  man.  "Victor's  thrown  up  the  sponge  —  the 
marriage  is  off  !  'Twas  the  money  that  did  it. 

46 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

He  couldn't  quite  stand  for  being  cut  off,  you  see ; 
so  now  he  promises  to  obey  his  mamma  in  every- 
thing, and  never,  never  marry  without  her  con- 
sent, if  only  he  may  have  his  allowance,  poor  boy, 
and  the  inheritance  that  his  papa  left  him.  Oh, 
I'm  so  happy  !  My  darling  boy  is  saved  !" 

We  ate  breakfast  together.  Mrs.  Cobb  did 
nothing  but  congratulate  herself  on  her  baby 
boy's  escape,  and  chuckle  and  plan  for  the  future. 
I  never  saw  any  one  so  crazy  with  joy.  She  de- 
scribed Victor's  character  to  me  for  the  tenth 
time  at  least ;  then  she  told  me  all  about  her  own 
early  life.  It  appears  that  she  began  life  quite 
plainly,  —  her  father  had  kept  a  kind  of  res- 
taurant in  a  mining  camp  in  Colorado,  and  she 
herself  had  been  the  mistress  of  a  little  country 
school.  But  then  she  married  Mr.  Cobb,  and 
he  made  money  —  much  money.  So  she  had 
moved  to  New  York,  and  last  month  to  London, 
and  a  Countess,  who  had  undertaken  to  present 
her  in  society,  had  taken  her  check  and  intro- 
duced her  to  nothing  but  a  few  scrubs  and  jays. 
What  are  scrubs  and  jays  ?  I  was  just  planning 
to  ask,  when  Mrs.  Cobb  suddenly  gave  a  twist  to 
the  conversation  and  began  tiptoeing  up  to  what 

47 


HER  WORD  OF   HONOR 

I  had  guarded  always  as  forbidden  ground ; 
namely,  my  own  circumstances,  and  my  reasons 
for  coming  to  America. 

"  Such  a  little  beauty  as  you  !  I  think  your 
family  were  very  brave  to  let  you  travel  alone." 
She  felt  her  way  along  cautiously.  "  I  suppose 
you  know  there's  not  a  young  man  on  this  ship 
that  is  not  crazy  about  you ;  though  what  they'd 
say  if  they  could  see  you  like  that  I  don't  know, 
with  your  hair  loose  over  your  beautiful  creamy 
shoulders,  and  the  little  bare  foot  in  the  pink 
satin  mule — " 

I  jumped.  After  Brent  this  was  not  at  all  the 
kind  of  conversation  I  was  used  to.  However, 
Mrs.  Cobb  seemed  to  find  it  perfectly  matter  of 
fact,  so  I  didn't  get  angry,  as  I  suppose  Portia 
would  have  done. 

:'  The  really  Spanish  type  ! "  went  on  Mrs.  Cobb. 
"  Those  dangerous  eyes  of  yours,  and  that  vivid 
look  !  What  a  sensation  you  will  make  in  New 
York  —  I  suppose  you're  going  into  society,  my 
dear  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  answered  cautiously,  "  per- 
haps." 

Mrs.  Cobb  jumped  straight  at  the  point  about 
48 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

which  she  had  been  beating  for  so  many  days. 
"  By  the  way,  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres,  you 
haven't  told  me  who  you  are  going  to  stay  with," 
she  observed,  with  the  most  wonderful  carelessness. 

This  was  a  hard  question ;  so  I  answered  with 
an  indifference  that  almost  equaled  hers,  "  With 
an  old  friend  of  my  papa's." 

My  voice  did  not  invite  further  inquiry;  so 
Mrs.  Cobb  satisfied  herself  with  only  one  more 
question,  "  But,  at  least,  dear  Mademoiselle,  you 
will  give  me  your  address  in  New  York  ?" 

This  much  at  least  I  could  not  refuse  without 
arousing  suspicion ;  so  I  answered,  "  Certainly." 

"  Ah  !  Then  I  shall  come  to  call  on  you  soon 
after  our  arrival,  and  I  hope  that  this  summer, 
perhaps,  I  may  be  permitted  to  see  you  at  my 
house.  Of  course,  I  shall  not  be  in  New  York; 
but  I  have  a  little  place  at  Lenox,  and  a  little 
cottage  at  Bar  Harbor,  where  perhaps  I  shall  see 
you.  Ah !  What  a  happiness  it  would  be  to 
present  you  to  my  friends  —  and  to  my  boy  !" 

Our  eyes  met.  And  behind  hers  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  beheld,  for  the  flash  of  a  moment,  the 
reflection  of  a  thought  that  a  few  minutes  since 
had  been  in  my  own  mind. 

49 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

Rat-tat-tat !  at  the  door.  The  boy  in  buttons 
again  with  another  wireless  message.  Mrs.  Cobb 
jumped. 

"What's  Victor  saying  now?"  she  cried  ner- 
vously. 

"  For  the  young  lady,"  said  the  boy,  and  handed 
it  to  me.  My  hands  trembled.  I  read  the  ad- 
dress :  — 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny, 
11  Sir.  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Grossed 

A  wild  idea  came  to  me :  it  might  be  from 
Harriet !  My  ringers  trembled  as  I  tore  the  en- 
velope open.  Then  I  could  have  wept.  This  is 
what  I  read  :  — 

"  Come  home  at  once.  Return  passage  taken 
Str.  Mauretania  Saturday.  E.  PORTHAVEN." 

The  tears  scalded  my  eyes.  I  flung  down  the 
message  on  the  table  and  walked  over  to  the  win- 
dow. "I  won't  go  back  —  I  won't,  I  won't!" 
I  muttered  under  my  breath,  and  clenched  my 
fists  together. 

"No  bad  news,  I  hope,  dear?"  cried  Mrs. 
Cobb,  with  eagerness. 

50 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  Read  the  telegram  if  you  like,"  I  answered 
miserably.  Back  to  Brent,  to  talk  French  two 
hours  a  day  apiece  with  the  six  girls  —  and  not 
even  Brent  perhaps,  but  that  dreadful  chateau  in 
the  country  with  the  old  lady  and  the  park  ten 
miles  around  ! 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  little  noise  from  Mrs.  Cobb, 
—  a  queer  little  noise,  deep  down  in  her  throat. 
I  turned  around.  She  had  the  message  in  her 
hand  and  was  staring  at  it.  She  spoke  under 
her  breath :  — 

"  It's  all  true,  then  —  your  aunt  —  the  Duchess 
of  Porthaven!" 

"  Why,"  I  cried  in  a  rage,  "  did  you  think  I 
was  lying  to  you,  Madame  ?" 

"  Dearest  Mademoiselle !  Please  do  not  be 
offended.  Of  course,  I  believe  implicitly  every 
word  you  say.  But,  you  see,  until  I  saw  the  tele- 
gram, I  did  not  really  realize — " 

She  stopped  short,  choked  with  emotion.  Of 
course  I  could  see  easily  that  until  now,  even  if 
she  had  not  regarded  me  as  an  impostor,  she  had 
at  least  suspected  that  there  might  be  something 
in  those  spinaches.  For  the  niece  of  a  Duke  on 
one  side  and  a  Marquis  on  the  other  to  be  travel- 
s' 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

ing  all  alone  (Genevieve  doesn't  count ! )  and  not 
telling  where  she's  going  —  that's  a  thing  one 
doesn't  see  often,  you  know  !  I  didn't  need  any 
one  to  tell  me  that.  So,  for  a  person  that  tries 
to  be  a  philosopher,  it  would  have  been  ridiculous 
to  get  angry  with  Mrs.  Cobb  for  having  had  some 
doubts. 

I  merely  smiled  then,  in  a  grieved  and  plain- 
tive sort  of  way.  I  remarked,  "Poor  Aunt 
Elizabeth  ! " 

"Then  her  Grace,"  observed  Mrs.  Cobb,  tim- 
idly, "  is  very  fond  of  you  ?  " 

"  She  has  often  said,"  I  answered  with  truth, 
"that  she  regards  me  as  one  of  her  own  daugh- 
ters." 

"  Ah  !"  Mrs.  Cobb's  answer  was  a  long  sigh, 
and  she  continued  to  gaze  at  me  with  eyes  in  which 
awe  changed  visibly  to  speculation,  and  specu- 
lation to  open  eagerness.  What  was  in  her  mind  ? 
There  was  that  look  of  paws  ready  to  pounce 
which  had  struck  me  the  first  day  I  had  met  her. 
Ready  to  pounce,  yes,  like  a  cat  on  the  bird  in 
the  grape  arbor !  In  this  case  I  had  a  queer, 
creepy  sensation  which  told  me  I  was  the  bird. 
But  on  which  side  would  she  pounce,  and  why  ? 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  am  not  easily  disconcerted;  but  for  the  mo- 
ment I  own  that  I  became  rather  flustered. 
"But  I  should  like  to  know,"  I  cried,  "just  the 
same,  how  she  found  out  where  I  am  !  " 

Then  at  the  moment  I  remembered  the  news- 
papers, and  the  interviews,  and  the  advertising 
I  must  have  had  in  the  ridiculous  American  jour- 
nals. Of  course  the  news  had  gone  back  to  Eng- 
land, and  Aunt  Elizabeth  had  only  had  to  open 
her  Morning  Post  in  order  to  have  news  of  her 
beloved  niece.  Bah !  how  provoking !  But  I 
had  betrayed  myself  all  around.  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth knew  where  I  was,  and  Mrs.  Cobb  knew 
that  I  was  a  runaway. 

"What!"  she  cried.  "Then  you  left  home 
without  telling  the  Duchess  where  you  were 
going  ?" 

"  Not  exactly  that,"  I  faltered.  "  She  thought 
I  was  going  to  visit  an  aunt  in  the  country,  and  I 
—  just  let  her  think  so.  But  I  had  always  had 
so  particular  a  desire  to  see  America  !" 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  understand,"  replied  Mrs.  Cobb, 
with  polite  indifference;  though  one  could  see, 
in  those  watchful  eyes  of  hers,  that  she  did  not 
understand  at  all,  but  meant  to  understand  better 

S3 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

later  on.  She  looked  like  Destiny,  waiting  for 
me.  I  shivered  and  closed  my  eyes.  Suppose, 
after  all,  I  could  not  find  Harriet  ? 

For  the  next  day,  I  saw  little  of  my  hostess. 
She  lived  on  the  hurricane  deck,  at  the  elbow  of 
the  wireless  operator.  When  she  descended  for 
so  long  as  to  eat  her  dinner,  the  boy  came  dash- 
ing after  her  with  a  Marconigram.  It  appeared 
a  great  discussion  was  going  on  with  dear  Victor 
at  a  place  called  Atlantic  City.  How  strange 
they  seemed,  those  mysterious  messages  out  of 
the  void,  making  the  face  before  me  pale  with 
anger,  or  red  with  triumph,  or  all  screwed  up  with 
sharp,  shrewd  calculation  ! 

However,  she  said  nothing,  and  naturally  I  did 
not  ask.  I  had  my  own  concerns  to  think  about, 
and  they  were  pressing  enough  —  Heaven  knows  ! 

Ah,  the  day  when  there  rose  up  out  of  the  soft 
blue  water,  the  hard  iron  silhouette  of  New  York  ! 

The  outer  islands,  with  the  lights  on  them,rwe 
passed  by  at  night.  Then  we  came  very  slowly 
up  the  harbor,  waiting  for  the  quarantine.  All 
about  the  water  was  full  as  a  tub  is  full  of  linen, 
-  big  ships,  little  ships,  tugs,  ferryboats,  every 
sort  of  thing  that  could  float.  But  it  was  not  the 

54 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

number  of  them  that  confused  me :  it  was  the 
noise  and  bustle  and  movement.  Everything 
had  a  steam  whistle  that  never  stopped  roaring; 
and  everything  was  flying  about  so  quickly  over 
the  water,  it  seemed  as  though  nothing  stayed  in 
the  same  place  two  minutes  together.  A  stranger 
blinding  thought  came  to  me.  Why  had  I  come 
to  America,  hoping  to  find  that  a  certain  person 
had  stayed  in  the  same  place  for  thirty  years  ? 

The  look  of  the  city  itself,  as  I  turned  from 
water  to  solid  land  for  consolation,  did  not  tend  to 
reassure  me.  With  what  a  look  of  cruel  strength 
it  pushed  itself  up  from  the  horizon,  —  not  grace- 
ful and  calm  like  Paris,  but  full  of  a  strange  energy 
that  looked  ready  to  swallow  up  all  the  life  that 
should  come  near  !  Would  it  swallow  up  Lili, 
too  ?  Or  what  would  become  of  her  when  her 
five  hundred  francs  should  be  spent,  and  Harriet 
perhaps  nowhere  to  be  found  ? 

As  for  going  back  to  Brent,  that  was  impossible. 
Now  that  I  had  had  my  little  taste  of  life,  how 
could  I  ever  bear  the  prison  that  they  threatened 
me  with,  shut  up  alone  in  the  country  till  my  hair 
turned  white  and  my  teeth  fell  out  like  a  poor 
old  horse's  ?  And  besides,  how  could  I  face  the 

55 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

disgrace  of  being  dragged  back  to  Brent  like  a 
naughty  child,  with  Portia  lifting  her  eyebrows 
and  Uncle  Porthaven  cutting  his  jokes  for  the  fun 
of  seeing  me  turn  red  with  rage  ? 

No,  I  couldn't  go  back,  I  couldn't  face  that 
humiliation  and  defeat !  No,  assuredly  I  would 
find  dear  Harriet,  and  for  papa's  sake  she  would 
befriend  me  and  take  me  in.  Somehow,  this  idea, 
with  New  York  a  dream  city  on  the  other  side  of 
the  ocean,  and  Harriet's  love  letters  in  my  hand, 
had  seemed  very  possible  and  practicable.  But 
with  New  York  rising  there  from  the  busy  water 
before  me,  with  its  myriad  stone  towers  and  the 
millions  of  people  swarming  within  and  around 
them  —  how  different  it  looked,  how  impossible 
and  ridiculous  appeared  my  childish  hope  of  find- 
ing among  those  myriads  of  strangers  the  one 
particular  person  I  happened  to  want !  Within 
my  heart  something  seemed  suddenly  to  give 
way.  "  And  I  don't  even  know  what  she  looks 
like !"  I  cried  within  myself.  "  I  don't  even 
know  whether  she  wants  me  ! " 

I  felt  the  tears  come.  "  Lili,  imbecile !"  I 
said  out  loud.  Then  I  could  have  bitten  my 
tongue  out. 

56 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"My  poor  dear!  What  is  the  matter?" 
Mrs.  Cobb's  voice  was  in  my  ear.  I  turned 
around.  There  she  was,  ready  dressed  for  the 
shore,  in  a  wonderful  embroidered  brown  crepe 
de  chine  and  a  chic  hat.  And  Lili  still  in  her  white 
pique !  I  felt  all  wrong,  somehow,  bewildered, 
and  hopeless,  and  lost. 

Mrs.  Cobb  saw  the  tears  in  my  eyes,  and  in  hers 
I  saw  for  the  fraction  of  a  second  the  glint  of  the 
queer  look  I  had  seen  there  the  other  day  —  that 
keen  glance  of  some  one  who  sees  before  her  what 
she  wants  and  what  she  intends  to  have.  With 
a  wave  of  the  hand  she  dismissed  her  two  maids 
and  the  valet  that  was  holding  the  two  horrid 
little  dogs.  Then  she  dropped  beside  me  on  the 
sofa  and  said  in  a  voice  where  the  eagerness  struck 
through  the  coo  :  — 

"  Come,  my  little  lady,  tell  me  all  about  your 
trouble!" 

I  hate  to  be  pawed,  I  hate  to  be  patronized ; 
but  in  my  position  what  choice  had  I  ?     I   re- 
mained silent,  hesitating.     Mrs.  Cobb  cooed  in 
my  ear :  — 

"  Come,  dear,  tell  your  old  friend  all  about  it ! 
There  is  yet  an  hour  before  the  steamer  can  be 

57 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

docked,  and  Heaven  knows  how  much  time  to 
wait  for  the  customs  !  So  we  have  plenty  of  time 
for  a  little  cozy  talk.  Indeed,  for  these  last  days, 
I  have  been  making  plans  — ?' 

She  stopped  short,  with  a  keen,  sidewise  glance 
that  seemed  to  read  my  soul.  For  the  first  time 
I  noticed  that  she  was  as  agitated  as  I.  Her 
unsteadiness  gave  me  courage.  After  all,  why 
should  I  not  tell  the  truth  to  my  one  friend  ? 

"  I  am  a  little  bit  worried,"  I  said  uncertainly. 
"This  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  seen  New 
York,  and  I  did  not  realize  before  —  how  very 
big  it  is.  And  the  address  I  have  for  my  friends 
—  is  a  little  bit  old  — " 

She  gave  me  another  of  her  keen  looks.  "  What 
is  the  name  ?"  she  said.  "  Tell  me,  and  I  will 
place  them  for  you." 

"  The  address,"  I  answered  evasively,  "  is 
number  14  East  loth  Street,  New  York  Gty." 

"Oh,  my  dear!" 

Mrs.  Cbbb's  voice  bristled  with  horror,  as  though 
I  had  mentioned  the  Batignolles.  My  uneasi- 
ness grew.  Suppose  (which  I  had  never  supposed 
before)  that  poor  Harriet  had  sunk  in  the  world, 
had  married  perhaps  some  very  ordinary  and 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

common  person,  and  would  have  no  shelter  to 
offer  to  a  useless  little  charily  seeker  like  me  ? 
Oh,  I  should  have  written  before  coming  —  I 
should  have  written ! 

"  East  loth  Street  —  I  think  it  hardly  likely, 
my  dear,  that  the  Duchess  of  Porthaven  would 
be  glad  to  have  her  niece  visiting  on  Blast  loth 
Street!" 

I  was  crushed.  "  I  didn't  know,"  I  murmured 
miserably.  Then  an  impulse  of  weakness  came 
over  me,  to  confide  my  perplexity  to  this  one 
friend.  "The  address  is  an  old  one  —  I  don't 
know  whether  the  family  is  stfll  there  or  not. 
Perhaps  they  have  moved  away  long  ago,  if  you 
say  it's  not  a  nice  street  — " 

My  voice  trailed  away  in  a  tremble  that  I  hated 
myself  for,  but  could  not  help.  Suddenly  I  felt 
Mrs.  Cobb's  hand  grasp  mine  and  her  voice  with 
sudden  firmness  in  my  ear.  With  a  few  brief, 
businesslike  questions  she  had  the  truth  of  my 
situation  from  me,  as  I  should  hardly  have  dared 
to  state  it  to  myself.  Then  she  got  up  and  took 
one  or  two  turns  up  and  down  the  tiny  salon. 
I  sat  silent,  thinking  of  the  day  after  papa's 
funeral,  when  Genevieve  and  I  left  Fontaine- 

59 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

bleau.  Even  for  me  who  try  to  be  a  philosopher 
there  are  times  when  life  seems  almost  too  sad. 

Suddenly,  with  a  bounce,  Mrs.  Cobb  came  and 
seated  herself  by  my  side.  "  My  dear,  I  think 
we  have  been  beating  about  the  bush  long  enough. 
Let  us  be  frank  with  each  other.  It  begins  to 
look  to  me  as  though  you  might  have  need  of 
what  I  can  do  for  you.  I  frankly  own  to  you,  I 
have  need  of  what  you  can  do  for  me.  Shall  we 
try  and  make  a  bargain  ?" 

I  held  tight  to  my  seat.  It  seemed  to  me  I 
knew  already  what  was  coming. 

"  These  last  two  days,"  went  on  Mrs.  Cobb, 
firmly,  "  I  have,  as  you  doubtless  have  noticed, 
been  corresponding  a  great  deal  with  my  son.  I 
have,  in  fact,  brought  him  to  terms.  By  threaten- 
ing to  cut  him  off  from  all  inheritance,  I  have 
stopped  a  marriage  that  would  have  been  his 
ruin.  By  offering  to  settle  on  him  outright  and 
immediately  one  half  of  the  sum  that  his  father 
left  to  me,  I  have  obtained  his  consent  to  a  mar- 
riage of  my  choosing.  My  dear,  how  would  you 
like  to  be  my  daughter?" 


60 


CHAPTER   V 

WAS  I  expecting  such  a  question  ?     Perhaps ; 
but  nevertheless   my  head  whirled.     My 
husband  !     Was  it  possible,  before  I  had  foot  in 
the  new  world,  that  I  had  already  found  you  ? 

"  Dear  Madame  !  what  do  you  mean  ?"  I  cried 
in  confusion.  For  really,  when  it  came  to  the 
point,  it  was  a  little  bit  embarrassing  for  a  young 
girl  to  have  to  manage  her  marriage  all  by  her- 
self, without  an  intermediary  or  anything. 

For  answer  Mrs.  Cobb  took  up  a  heavy  silver 
frame  from  the  table  and  showed  me  a  picture 
inside.  I  will  confess  my  hand  trembled  a  little 
bit  as  I  took  it  up  and  looked  at  it.  A  very 
blonde,  straight-featured,  blue-eyed  young  man 
was  what  I  saw,  —  if  he  had  only^not  been  clean- 
shaven, he  might  have  been  the  same  pretty  boy 
that  poses  for  the  picture  postcards  in  the  railway 
stations.  In  fact,  my  impression  of  him  was 
something  less  than  nothing,  —  neither  good  nor 
bad,  nor  anything  very  much ;  in  short,  an  ideal 
husband  ! 

61 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

"The  dear  boy!"  said  Mrs.  Cobb,  fondly  re- 
garding the  miniature.  "  So  aristocratic,  isn't 
he  ?  Since  he  was  able  to  speak,  always  the  real 
little  swell !  His  skin  is  so  sensitive  he  never 
can  wear  but  one  kind  of  silk  underwear,  woven 
to  order  by  hand.  And  as  for  photographs,  he 
won't  even  sit  down  before  a  camera;  he  says 
they're  too  common.  So  this  miniature,  as  you 
see,  is  all  I  have  of  my  pet,  —  except  a  large 
full-length  portrait  by  Chartran,  that  hangs  in 
our  cottage  at  Bar  Harbor.  Well,  dear,  what 
do  you  say  ?" 

Just  why,  for  a  simple  business  affair  like  my 
marriage,  I  should  have  been  so  embarrassed,  I 
really  cannot  tell  you.  Here  was  the  object  of 
my  life,  as  of  every  well-regulated  young  girl's, 
attained  in  a  manner  that  Aunt  Elizabeth  de- 
spaired of,  and  that  Harriet  herself  probably 
might  not  have  been  able  to  do  for  me.  Without 
a  dowry,  without  even  the  embarrassing  prelim- 
inaries of  falling  in  love,  here  I  was  offered  a  name, 
position,  and  millions.  If  Cobb  was  not  much 
of  a  name  beside  Vauquieres  de  Clugny,  at  least 
its  respectability  was  vouched  for  by  the  deep 
reverence  the  captain  of  this  great  ship  showed  to 

62 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

the  lady  who  now  offered  the  name  to  me.  I 
thought  of  my  poor  little  purse  with  its  less  than 
five  hundred  francs  inside;  then  I  thought  of  the 
diamonds,  the  automobiles,  the  Doucet  frocks, 
and  the  way  Aunt  Elizabeth  and  the  girls  would 
stare.  Yet  somehow  there  was  no  triumph  in 
the  thought.  I  was  sad ;  sad  almost  as  the  day 
I  left  Fontainebleau  and  stood  as  to-day  on  the 
brink  of  the  unknown. 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  faltered.  "  Thank  you  so 
much,  Madame,  for  the  honor  you  pay  me; 
but—" 

"  But  what  ?    Are  you  already  engaged  ?  " 

"No;  but—" 

"But  my  family  isn't  good  enough  for  you, 
perhaps,"  snapped  Mrs.  Cobb,  in  sudden  anger, 
"  though  I  can  assure  you  that  I  was  a  McNabb  of 
Missouri,  and  that  Mr.  Cobb's  grandfather —  " 

"  Please  don't  be  offended  !"  I  cried  anxiously; 
for,  although  I  did  not  want  to  accept  her  offer 
immediately,  still  I  was  filled  with  terror  at  the 
idea  of  its  being  withdrawn.  *'  Don't  you  see,  so 
important  an  affair  as  this,  I  can't  decide  all  at 
once  —  or  all  by  myself.  There's  my  family  — 
my  aunt  — " 

63 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Mrs.  Cobb  was  mollified.  "  Your  aunt,  of 
course,"  she  said.  "  We'll  have  to  have  the 
Duchess's  consent,  of  course.  And,  my  dear,  you 
see  I  am  frank  with  you.  That  is  my  motto, 
always  frankness,  frankness  !  But  do  you  think 
your  aunt  would  be  inclined  to  —  to  notice  her 
niece  upon  her  marriage  ?" 

Ah,  now  I  understood  !  Mrs.  Cobb's  motives, 
which  I  had  taken  to  be  simply  those  of  a  mother 
wishing  to  manage  a  rather  wild  and  difficult  son, 
now  stared  at  me  straight  and  plain.  The  pro- 
posed marriage  was  to  benefit  not  only  dear 
Victor,  but  also  his  dear  mamma ;  and  the  Duchess 
of  Porthaven  was  to  swing  her  niece's  mother-in- 
law  full  into  the  enchanted  circle  of  the  society 
that  she  craved. 

Oh,  dear !  there's  no  use,  I  found  that  out  long 
ago,  in  being  an  idealist  like  dear  papa,  and  expect- 
ing everybody  to  be  high-minded  angels.  A  phi- 
losopher takes  people  as  he  finds  them,  and  when 
he  sees  that  they  are  selfish  and  sharp,  he  just  does 
his  best  to  be  selfish  and  sharp  back  again.  And, 
after  all,  wasn't  it  a  comfort  to  consider  that  I 
had  so  capital  a  card  to  play  against  the  Cobb 
millions  as  the  social  influence  of  Aunt  Elizabeth  ? 

64 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

I  put  on,  therefore,  a  more  reserved  and  distant 
manner,  something  in  the  style  of  the  Duchess's 
own,  while  Mrs.  Cobb  explained  her  idea  :  — 

"  We'll  just  stay  in  New  York  City  long  enough 
to  get  a  few  more  clothes,  then  go  directly  to  the 
cottage  at  Bar  Harbor,  —  a  sweet  little  place,  my 
dear,  so  exclusive,  you'll  feel  yourself  at  home 
right  at  once.  Victor  will  join  us  there.  Dear 
boy,  he's  so  upset  by  this  recent  affair,  I'm  afraid 
we  shan't  see  him  on  the  pier  to  meet  us.  How- 
ever, a  bit  later  —  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  we'll 
announce  the  engagement  at  once.  Then  in 
August,  just  in  the  crush  of  the  season,  we'll  have 
the  wedding  !" 

"Oh!"  I  cried,  startled  at  this  suddenness. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  in  August.  Then  the  honey- 
moon on  our  yacht,  the  Brunhilda.  Then  —  let 
me  see,  what  would  be  the  most  stylish  thing  ?  — 
Scotland,  probably,  for  a  couple  of  months.  I'll 
take  a  shooting  box  in  the  Highlands,  and  you  shall 
ask  your  uncle  and  aunt  and  their  friends  to  join 
us." 

"  Ah  !"  I  cried  again.  But,  after  all,  why  not  ? 
It  was  only  as  a  poor  relation  and  matrimonial 
rival  of  her  girls  that  Aunt  Elizabeth  disliked  me, 

65 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

and  as  for  Uncle  Porthaven,  he  would  go  any- 
where for  the  sake  of  killing  things  with  a  gun. 
"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  they  probably  would  come." 

Mrs.  Cobb's  eyes  glistened  as  she  went  on  weav- 
ing her  plans.  "  Then  your  aunt,  at  New  Year's, 
will  send  in  your  name  for  next  year's  Drawing- 
room  ?  Surely,  your  aunt  will  present  you  at 
Court  on  your  marriage  ?  Yes  ?  How  splendid 
it  will  look  !  '  Mrs.  Ethelbert  Victor  Cobb,  Jr., 
of  New  York,  presented  by  her  aunt  the  Duchess 
of  Porthaven,'  and  then  '  Mrs.  Cobb  of  New  York, 
presented  by  her  daughter-in-law.'  Ah !"  and 
she  closed  her  eyes  with  that  kind  of  voluptuous 
expression  that  the  dogs  at  Brent  took  on  when 
you  tickled  their  stomachs,  or  Aunt  Elizabeth 
when  she  spoke  of  "money  —  much  money!" 
Yes,  how  nicely  they  ought  to  get  on  together, 
Mrs.  Cobb  and  Aunt  Elizabeth  ! 

"  Then  Paris  and  your  stylish  relations  there," 
went  on  my  would-be  mother-in-law,  weaving  her 
plans  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning,  "  then  back 
to  London  for  the  season,  then  another  summer  at 
Bar  Harbor,  then  finally,  year  after  next,  open  the 
house  on  Fifth  Avenue  for  our  grand  campaign  !" 

How  long  she  must  have  been  laying  her  plans, 
66 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

to  have  everything  so  complete  and  so  thoroughly 
thought  out !  I  felt  like  a  little  hare,  hemmed  in 
by  beaters  and  guns,  in  the  woods  at  Brent.  The 
offer  was  a  splendid  one,  no  matter  what  Victor 
should  turn  out  to  be.  I  could  see  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth and  the  girls  bowing  down  to  Lili,  lately  so 
snubbed  and  despised.  I  could  imagine  the  scene 
of  the  flower  show  at  Brent,  with  its  little  taste  of 
admiration  and  the  great  world,  repeated  in  some 
chic  London  salon;  and  I  saw  Lili  in  a  spangled 
frock  with  diamonds  in  her  hair,  distributing  smiles 
and  frowns  to  a  ring  of  admirers  like  the  famous 
American  beauty  at  that  same  famous  flower  show. 
As  for  Lili's  husband,  he  was  somewhere  in  the 
background,  covered  up  in  flowers  like  the  chains 
that  hold  a  triumphant  float  in  a  procession  in 
the  Fete  des  Loges.  But  ah  !  he  was  there  ! 

It  was  strange,  considering  the  perfectly  simple 
and  reasonable  proposition  that  was  being  made  to 
me,  that  I  should  have  felt  so  invincible  a  shrink- 
ing from  saying  yes.  But  I  hesitated.  I  trembled. 
With  an  involuntary  movement  I  carried  my  hand 
to  my  bosom,  where  I  always  wore  beneath  my 
blouse  the  locket  that  was  my  talisman.  Ah, 
Harriet,  that  my  papa  loved,  aid  me  now ! 

67 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  Well !"  Mrs.  Cobb's  voice  prodded  me  as  the 
goad  of  a  Pyrenees  peasant  prods  his  ox.  "  Well, 
dear,  and  your  answer  ?" 

"  I  must  have  a  little  time,"  I  answered  con- 
fusedly. "  I  must  ask  permission.  I  must  ask 
advice.  I  must  see  the  lady  that  I'm  to  visit — " 

"  Ah  !  the  lady  of  East  Tenth  Street !"  Words 
cannot  properly  reflect  the  scorn  of  Mrs.  Cobb's 
voice.  In  spite  of  my  loyalty  to  the  lady  of  my 
dreams,  I  blushed  for  Harriet. 

"  Is  it  such  a  very  bad  street  ?"  I  asked.  "  But 
perhaps,  after  all,  she  doesn't  live  there  any  more." 

"  Any  more  !    Then  how  old  is  it,  this  address  ?" 

I  hung  my  head.     "  Several  years,  Madame." 

She  regarded  me  with  pity.  "  Several  years  ! 
Is  the  child  mad  ?  She  thinks  that  a  house  in 
New  York  is  like  a  home  in  the  Faubourg  Saint- 
Germain,  where  the  families  move  out  only  when 
there's  a  revolution.  But  perhaps  we  can  find  her 
in  the  directory.  What  is  her  name  ? " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  A  garcon 
entered  the  cabin,  very  bustling  and  important. 
"  All  first-class  passengers  are  requested  to  go  to 
the  dining  saloon  to  make  their  report  to  the 
customhouse  officers  !" 

68 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"What's  that?"  I  cried  in  a  panic,  as  he 
slapped  some  printed  forms  of  papers  down  on  the 
table  and  dashed  out  again. 

"  It's  your  first  step  toward  entering  the  U.  S., 
my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Cobb,  grimly ;  "  but, 
once  you  are  in,  doubtless  your  friend  will  take 
good  care  of  you  —  better  care  than  I  could,  I'm 
sure  —  if  we  can  only  find  her !  Her  name, 
my  dear  ?" 

There  was  no  interruption,  this  time,  to  save  me 
from  the  humiliating  truth,  and  no  inspiration 
came  to  help  me.  "  I  only  know  her  maiden 
name,"  I  faltered,  feeling  myself  ridiculous 
enough ;  "  her  married  name  —  I  never  heard 
it." 

"Ah!    and  when  was  she  married?" 

I  hung  my  head  like  a  fool.  How  wild  and 
intangible  they  seemed  now,  the  visions  that  in 
the  solitude  of  Brent,  above  the  old  letters  had 
reared  themselves  on  so  solid  a  foundation ! 
"  She  was  married  before  I  was  born,"  I  an- 
swered in  a  whisper. 

From  outside  the  door  came  the  scream  of 
whistling  tugs,  the  grinding  of  cranes,  the  shouts 
of  stevedores,  —  all  the  blind,  crushing  confusion 

69 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

of  this  unknown  new  world  in  which  I  found 
myself.  And  it  was  here,  here !  that  I  had 
thought  to  find  Harriet  like  a  little  lost,  lonely 
star  in  the  great  white  river  of  the  Milky  Way. 
I  who  had  prided  myself  on  my  intelligence,  I 
who  had  called  myself  a  philosopher,  and  pat- 
ronized Aunt  Elizabeth  and  my  Vauquieres  rela- 
tives at  Paris,  —  this  was  where  all  my  science 
and  my  cleverness  had  landed  me  !  The  night 
that  I  left  Fontainebleau  I  thought  I  knew  what 
loneliness  was.  But  now  at  this  moment  it 
seemed  to  me  that  for  the  first  time  I  knew  what 
it  was  to  be  alone. 

When  Mrs.  Cobb  spoke  next,  it  was  in  a  tone 
of  kindness  almost  motherly.  "  And  how  much 
money  have  you  in  your  purse,  my  poor  child  ?" 

"  Nearly  five  hundred  francs,"  I  answered  in  a 
whisper. 

"  And  you  have  your  maid  with  you,  dependent 
upon  you  ?" 

"  Yes  —  poor  old  Genevieve." 

"Then,  if  you  do  not  find  this  lady  at  the 
address  you  have  for  her,  you  will  abandon  all 
idea  of  staying  in  America  ?  You  and  your 
Genevieve  will  use  the  passages  that  the  Duchess 

70 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

has  taken  for  you,  and  go  back  to  England  by  the 
next  boat?" 

To  England  !  I  felt  a  qualm  in  my  stomach, 
like  that  first  day  when  the  deck  began  to  rise  and 
fall  under  my  feet.  If  it  were  to  my  dear  France 
that  I  was  to  return  —  but  in  France  no  home 
waited  for  me  any  more. 

"  No,"  I  murmured,  "  I  don't  want  to  go  back 
—  I  can't  go  back  !" 

"Then,  it  is  only  the  idea  that  you  may  per- 
haps find  this  lady  that  holds  you  back  from 
accepting  my  offer  ?" 

"  Yes,  Madame.  You  see,  it  is  not  that  I  am 
ungrateful.  I  am  very  grateful,  indeed  I  am ! 
But  if  I  should  find  her  — " 

Mrs.  Cobb  leaned  toward  me.  Her  jaw  and 
shoulders  were  set  like  a  personified  will,  pushing 
and  crushing  mine  even  more  powerfully  than 
circumstance  itself. 

"  Then,  dear  Mademoiselle,  it  is  agreed  that  if  we 
don't  find  the  lady  you  seek,  you  come  with  me?" 

I  drew  in  my  breath.  I  could  not  go  back  to 
England,  I  could  not  starve  in  New  York.  "  Yes," 
I  answered  steadily;  and  I  felt  the  word  close 
round  my  soul  like  a  manacle. 

71 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  You  go  with  me  —  on  the  conditions  that 
we  have  discussed  ?  It  is  a  promise  ?" 

"It  is  a  promise,  Madame!" 

She  regarded  me  doubtfully.  "  Yes,  you  prom- 
ise me,  dear  Mademoiselle;  but  young  girls 
are  capricious  —  and  though  Victor  is  the  most 
perfectly  stunning  and  corking  fellow  in  his  whole 
set,  and  such  a  winner  with  the  girls  as  never 
was  seen  —  still,  who  can  tell  but  when  I've 
taken  all  possible  pains  and  presented  you  and 
announced  the  engagement  and  all,  that  perhaps 
at  the  last  minute  you'll  find  some  one  you  think 
you  like  better  and  go  back  on  me,  and  there  will 
be  Victor  and  I  looking  as  foolish  as  two  cats 
on  a  fence !" 

To  this  flood  of  eloquence  I  made  no  reply.  I 
walked  to  the  window  of  the  cabin  and  looked 
out  at  the  city  which  now  appeared  near  enough 
for  me  to  touch  it  with  my  hand,  —  the  city,  the 
iron  city  where,  beside  the  shadow  of  a  memory 
older  than  myself,  there  waited  for  me  not  one 
single  friend  —  unless,  like  Faust  in  the  opera,  I 
pledged  myself  body  and  soul  to  such  friendship 
as  was  now  offered  me.  After  all,  why  should  I 
hesitate  to  give  it,  the  pledge  she  asked  ?  In 

72 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

the  position  where  I  had  put  myself,  what  choice 
was  left  to  me  ? 

"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  in  nearly  a  thousand 
years,  for  so  long  as  we  possess  any  records  of 
my  family,  not  one  of  my  race  has  broken  his 
word.  Do  you  know  the  motto  on  our  arms  ? 
Fauquieres  tient  parole!  Where  I  give  my  word, 
Madame,  I  keep  it,  if  I  have  to  go  to  the  guillo- 
tine like  my  great-grandfather !" 

This  was  awkward.  Mrs.  Cobb  became  imme- 
diately quite  offended  at  hearing  her  darling  boy 
compared  to  the  Widow  Guillotine.  So  I  had  to 
apologize,  and  she  forgave  me,  and  then  we  cried 
a  little,  and  shook  hands  on  our  bargain,  and 
finally  actually  kissed  each  other  like  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth and  one  of  her  darling  girls  when  there's  an 
eligible  young  man  in  the  vicinity. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  a  whirl  of  reporters, 
of  customhouse  inspectors,  of  shrill-voiced  and 
very  chic  ladies  who  welcomed  Mrs.  Cobb  at  the 
dock.  (Victor  was  not  there  —  something  to  be 
thankful  for,  I  told  myself.)  Then  the  whirl 
across  a  dingy,  clanging  city  to  the  dingiest  — 
—  ah,  A/on  Difu  !  —  the  saddest  and  shabbiest 
little  den  of  a  house  that  was  ever  seen  outside  of 

73 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

the  Latin  Quarter.  There  were  names  in  shabby 
gilt  signs  —  strange  names  like  German  Jews  — 
all  up  and  down  the  front  of  the  house,  with  adver- 
tisements of  Cheap  Stylish  Tailoring  for  Ladies 
and  Furs  Made  Over.  Then  beside  the  front 
door  was  a  row  of  tarnished  bell-pulls,  and  a  dirty 
child  with  a  tin  pail  in  his  hand  trying  to  reach 
up  to  pull  one  of  them.  A  frowzy  woman,  all 
red  like  a  fishwoman  at  the  Halles,  stared  down 
from  an  upper  window  as  the  limousine  halted 
and  the  man  held  the  door  open  for  me  to  descend. 

"What!  Then  we're  at  home!"  I  cried  with 
a  sinking  heart. 

"  My  home !  No,  dear  child.  This  is  the 
address  of  your  friend  that  you  are  going  to 
visit.  Tell  Ludovic  the  name,  and  he  will  make 
inquiries." 

In  five  minutes,  however,  the  scornful  Ludovic 
returned  with  the  news  that  the  house  contained 
not  a  soul  that  had  lived  there  more  than  eight 
months  —  and  all  Russian  Jews  at  that ! 

Ah,  Harriet !  I  had  come  too  late.  Over 
that  dingy,  desecrated  threshold  had  passed  for 
the  last  time  the  feet  that  my  papa  loved,  and 
which  to  the  last  had  wandered  through  his 

74 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

dreams.  Who  could  tell  where  they  walked  now, 
whether  on  earth  or  only  in  my  dreams,  those 
beloved  feet  ?  I  think  I  cried  a  little  as  I  leaned 
back  in  my  corner  of  the  limousine  and  thought 
of  all  I  had  hoped  to  hear  from  Harriet  about 
papa  and  what  he  was  like  when  he  was  young. 

Mrs.  Cobb,  I  must  confess,  was  extremely 
decent.  Neither  in  word  nor  in  glance  did  she 
tell  me  what  an  imbecile  I  was.  From  her  eyes, 
however,  shone  her  triumph.  And  at  the  tele- 
graph office,  on  the  way  up  to  the  avenue,  the 
limousine  stopped  to  send  the  following  message : 

"  Duchess  of  Porthaven,  Brent  Castle,  Devonshire, 

England. 

"  Will  you  consent  my  marriage  New  York 
millionaire  Victor  Cobb  ?  Will  you  and  Uncle 
come  to  wedding  Bar  Harbor,  August;  girls 
bridesmaids  ?  Wire  response.  Mrs.  Cobb  books 

your  passages  steamer. 

"  LILI. 

"  —  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York." 
Within  twelve  hours  I  had  the  following  answer : 

"  Yes.     Blessings. 

"  PORTHAVEN." 
75 


CHAPTER  VI 

I  Here  is  Lili,  no  longer  a  poor  rela- 
tion  but  a  personage  ! 
After  the  humble  pie  that  I  have  swallowed  in 
this  last  half  year,  I  find  that  one  eats  well  here 
on  Fifth  Avenue.  It  is  very  agreeable  to  be 
consulted  about  everything,  and  to  be  fitted  to 
ten  dresses  a  day,  and  have  nothing  to  do  but 
drive  about  in  the  limousine  to  choose  summer 
hats  and  ropes  of  pearls  at  a  big  shop  they  call 
Tiffany's.  My  pearl  rope  goes  about  my  neck 
twice  and  falls  nearly  to  my  knees.  It  makes 
my  skin  look  rather  brown ;  so  it's  settled  that 
I  am  to  wear  it  only  with  afternoon  and  theater 
frocks  (my  new  ones  —  loves  !).  For  the  evening 
I  am  to  have  a  diamond  collar  with  a  ruby  pendant 
and  stomacher  —  and  a  few  other  little  things. 
But  all  that  we  buy  now,  Mrs.  Cobb  says,  is  only 
preliminary :  the  real  shopping  is  the  things 
we  order  now,  to  be  delivered  in  Bar  Harbor  in 
time  for  the  wedding.  Such  gorgeousness,  such 
dresses,  such  jewels,  such  hats !  What  Aunt 

76 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Elizabeth  and  the  girls  will  say  when  they  see 
again  their  little  black  mouse  of  a  Lili,  I  really 
can't  think.  —  At  any  rate,  it  won't  be  "  Come 
here,  Lili !  " 

It  really  looks,  in  fact,  as  if  I  should  have  no 
further  need  of  the  philosophy  I  have  cultivated 
so  carefully.  Unless,  indeed  — 

Yes,  there  is  one  little  point  on  which  I  feel 
now  and  then  a  small  flash  of  uncertainty,  —  my 
husband  ! 

To  be  sure,  I'm  not  an  unpractical  goose  like 
Portia  and  the  girls,  looking  for  somebody  who 
will  be  madly  in  love  with  me  and  give  me  thrills 
when  he  kisses  me.  But  he  will  have  to  kiss  me,  I 
suppose,  this  Victor,  when  he  is  my  husband. 
Well,  there  is  nothing  like  philosophy.  I  will 
just  think  of  Brent  and  those  hours  of  French  con- 
versation, then  of  the  way  New  York  looked  when 
I  thought  I'd  have  to  enter  it  alone  —  and  I'll 
try  to  be  brave  as  my  ancestor  was  at  the  guillo- 
tine. Though,  to  be  sure,  after  all,  Victor  may 
not  be  so  bad  as  that.  And  since  for  the  present 
he  quite  refuses  to  see  me,  it  is  perhaps  super- 
fluous that  I  disquiet  myself  about  his  future 
attentions. 

77 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Yes,  my  fiance,  it  appears,  is  nursing  the 
broken  heart  that  holds  the  image  of  the  show 
girl.  Poor  thing !  I'm  sure  I  don't  mean  to 
laugh  at  him.  It  must  be  quite  horrid,  when  you 
are  obliged  to  marry  one  person,  to  know  you 
are  quite  in  love  with  another.  I  haven't  that 
trial,  at  any  rate,  and  I  feel  quite  sorry  for  poor 
Victor.  When  we  are  married,  I'm  sure  I  shan't 
object  if  he  wants  to  go  back  every  now  and  then 
and  flirt  with  his  Fay  (Fay  it  appears  is  her 
name,  and  she  is  said  to  have  the  most  beautiful 
figure  on  Broadway  —  according  to  Mrs.  Cobb). 
At  any  rate,  whether  I  object  or  not,  it  appears 
from  what  I  used  to  hear  at  Brent,  that  that  is 
the  way  all  husbands  do.  And  the  wives,  if  they 
are  discreet,  can  have  their  freedom,  too.  Would 
I,  I  wonder  ?  Somehow,  I  don't  think  that  is 
what  papa  would  have  advised,  or  Harriet, 
either.  Oh,  well  !  we'll  see.  The  first  step 
evidently  is  to  see  my  fiance. 

But  he,  unhappily  (or  happily  ?),  refuses  to 
see  me.  He  has  given  his  consent,  signed  and 
sealed,  to  this  marriage  that  his  mother's  ambi- 
tion has  arranged  for  him.  But  when  he  came 
up  from  Atlantic  City  to  go  to  a  place  called 

78 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

White  Mountains,  he  didn't  even  pass  through 
New  York,  though  it  would  have  been  much 
more  convenient  for  him.  No,  he  had  his  auto- 
mobile put  on  a  scow  in  a  way  his  mother  ex- 
plained to  me,  and  ferried  from  Jersey  City  up  to 
the  Harlem  River  (I  am  becoming  quite  a  New 
Yorker  already  —  their  names  come  so  easy  to 
me  now).  So  you  passed  near  enough  for  me  to 
touch  you,  my  husband,  and  I  never  even  saw  the 
back  of  your  head  !  That  pleasure  is  shortly  to 
be  mine,  however.  It  is  arranged  that  Victor 
and  his  broken  heart  are  to  take  themselves  on  to 
Bar  Harbor  and  be  ready  to  receive  us  there  in 
another  fortnight.  Ah !  the  idea  is  not  gay. 
But,  then,  life  is  not  gay,  and  one  can't  expect  to 
have  all  that  I  have  now,  without  paying  for  it. 
The  wedding  is  fixed  for  the  tenth  of  August. 
The  sixth  of  August  the  Cobb  yacht,  the  Brun- 
hilda,  a  great  steamer  that  looks  almost  as  big  as 
the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  der  Grosse,  is  to  be  sent  to 
New  York  to  meet  my  august  relatives  on  their 
arrival  in  America.  Uncle  and  Aunt  Porthaven, 
with  three  of  the  girls,  have  already  signified  by 
cable  their  acceptance  of  this  offered  attention, 
together  with  their  cabins  de  luxe  on  the  steamer 

79 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

and  Mrs.  Cobb's  Bar  Harbor  hospitality  for  a 
month.  My  Uncle  Phillippe  and  Aunt  Felicite 
at  Paris  (not  the  Marquis,  the  head  of  the  family, 
but  his  younger  brother,  Comte  de  Vauquieres  de 

A 

Clugny,  of  the  He  of  Puteaux  fame)  have  also 
promised  to  join  the  party.  Oh,  la-la  !  it  will  be 
a  merry  party,  all  at  Mrs.  Cobb's  expense,  and 
she  the  merriest  of  all  at  being  permitted  to 
entertain  such  flowers  of  aristocracy. 

Already,  though  the  wedding  is,  of  course,  not 
yet  announced,  the  American  journals  are  begin- 
ning to  heave  and  rumble  with  the  news  of  Mrs. 
Cobb's  approaching  apotheosis.  All  day  long  the 
side  door  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  house  (the  front 
doors  and  windows  are  boarded  up.  It  appears 
that  every  chic  New  Yorker  keeps  his  town  house 
boarded  up  at  least  eleven  months  of  the  year) 
—  all  day  long  the  doorbell  keeps  tinkling,  and 
reporters  —  gentlemen  reporters  and  lady  ones, 
too  —  come  marching  in  with  their  notebooks, 
hungry  for  news.  Then  —  oh,  every  morning 
the  bundles  come  in  from  the  clipping  bureaus, 
and  Mrs.  Cobb  and  I  go  through  them  with 
pencil  and  shears  !  It  appears  that  I  am  already 
known  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  through 

80 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

all  this  new  world,  as  La  Belle  Parisienne,  the 
beautiful  little  aristocrat  that  Mrs.  Ethelbert 
V.  Cobb,  widow  of  the  oil  king,  has  captured  and 
annexed.  My  personal  charms,  my  huge  black 
eyes  and  vivid  gypsy  fascinations  ( ! )  are  all 
catalogued  and  described,  till  one  would  think  I 
was  a  new  opera  singer,  or  else  royalty.  My 
august  relatives  on  both  sides,  be  sure,  come  in 
for  a  full  share  of  publicity,  also  the  fact  that 
Mrs.  Cobb's  cottage  is  this  summer  to  harbor  such 
noble  guests.  She  sniffs  and  pshaws  and  pre- 
tends (even  to  the  reporters  !)  to  be  very  much 
put  out  at  all  this  advertising.  But  ah !  I 
have  seen  her  lay  down  a  letter  from  Victor  half 
read,  and  turn  to  the  packet  of  newspaper 
clippings  when  they  arrived  in  the  morning  ! 

And  I,  the  vortex  of  this  whirlpool,  the  central 
point  of  all  this  straining,  and  luxury,  and  ambi- 
tion —  am  I  happy  ?  If  a  month  ago,  before 
buying  my  passage  for  America,  I  could  have  seen 
where  my  voyage  would  land  me,  would  I  have 
sailed  away  just  the  same  ? 

Mystery !  In  any  case,  it  is  too  late  to  put 
this  question  to  myself  or  to  the  unseen,  because 
now  Lili's  word  is  given  and  her  fate  is  fixed. 

81 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Before  the  end  of  two  months  I  shall  be  carrying 
a  new  gold  cardcase  monogrammed  E.  C.  and 
filled  with  cards  engraved  in  this  fashion  :  — 


MRS.  ETHELBERT  VICTOR  COBB  JR. 


•Fifth  Avenue 


I  shall  have  new  rings  on  my  fingers,  new  recol- 
lections in  my  head,  and  —  oh,  new  kisses  on  my 
lips  !  What  will  it  be  like,  oh  !  oh  !  when  Victor 
kisses  me  for  the  first  time  ?  Afterwards  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  get  used  to  it ;  but  at  first  it  must  be 
terrible. 

Well,  it's  no  more  than  every  woman  has  to  go 
through  that  wants  to  have  "Madame"  before 
her  name.  And  most  of  them  don't  get  pearl 
ropes  and  a  steam  yacht  in  exchange. 

So  be  it.  In  any  case  it  appears,  from  a  letter 
received  from  Aunt  Elizabeth  this  morning,  that 
I  have  done  extremely  well  for  myself,  and  am 

82 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

a  child  for  my  family  to  be  proud  of.  She  even 
offers,  without  so  much  as  waiting  to  be  asked, 
to  present  me  at  next  year's  Drawing-room  — 
so  my  mamma-in-law's  pet  project  is  already 
assured.  As  for  Victor  —  who  knows  ?  Perhaps 
when  I  see  him  I  shall  fall  at  once  desperately  in 
love,  like  one  of  Marcel  Prevost's  heroines  (hush  !). 
And  perhaps,  an  even  more  likely  chance,  as  he  is 
marrying  me  only  to  get  the  twenty-five  millions 
of  his  inheritance,  and  is  always  in  love  with 
Mademoiselle  Fay,  perhaps  he  won't  want  to 
kiss  Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb,  Jr.,  at  all ! 
Who  knows  ?  Courage,  Lili ! 


CHAPTER  VII 

3Tjr/7'/70  knows?  Courage,  Lili!  It  is  only 
rr  fifteen  days  since  I  wrote  those  words, 
but  ah,  now  I  know.  Now  you  know,  —  and 
where  is  your  courage,  Lili  ? 

But,  after  all,  do  I  know  ?  Is  it  not  rather 
the  fleeting  influence  of  a  moment  that  has 
touched  me,  the  brief  unclosing  of  a  door  through 
which  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  what  life  might  be  — 
while  before  me,  around  me,  every  day  and  all 
day  long,  I  see  what  life  must  be. 

But  Lili,  my  poor  little  one,  you  rave  !  Come, 
collect  your  data,  and  arrange  your  narrative  in 
the  cool  and  dignified  spirit  worthy  of  one  whose 
ambition  is  the  philosophic  calm  ! 

First,  our  departure  from  New  York.  Im- 
mensely chic  !  In  the  lead  Mrs.  Cobb  and  I,  in 
new  motor  coats  and  wonderful  white  veils,  rattling 
around  like  two  dried  beans  in  a  plate  of  soup, 
inside  of  the  immense  new  limousine  that  was 
brought  over  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  with  us. 

84 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Behind  us  went  another  machine,  filled  with 
Mrs.  Cobb's  personnel.  Not  the  ordinary  serv- 
ants, because  she  keeps  a  special  staff  in  each  of 
her  houses ;  but  important  people  like  her  secre- 
tary, the  new  footman  she  brought  from  Paris, 
her  masseuse,  and  that  sort  of  thing.  On  the 
two  little  seats  in  the  limousine  were  perched  Mrs. 
Cobb's  maid  and  poor  old  Genevieve,  clutching  my 
new  jewelry  box  on  her  lap  and  looking  about  her 
with  amazement,  like  a  cow  that  regards  a  train 
that  passes. 

That  night,  as  we  had  started  late,  we  did  not 
get  very  far.  We  slept  at  a  town  called  Spring- 
field —  such  a  nice  quiet  little  place  after  the 
roar  and  hurry  of  New  York !  In  the  little 
hotel  it  was  funny  to  see  the  way  people  stared. 
They  stood  in  two  lines  for  us  to  pass  between  as 
we  went  in  and  out  to  our  automobile,  and  fought 
for  places  next  to  our  table  in  the  dining  room. 
Yes,  it  is  amusing  to  travel  like  a  queen,  even  with 
a  Victor  in  the  background  ! 

The  next  day,  up  early  and  off  —  a  beautiful 
June  day.  The  roads  were  the  bumpiest,  dustiest 
affairs  I  ever  saw;  but  the  country  was  sweet. 
It  reminded  me  of  Normandy,  —  all  the  apple 

85 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

trees  and  the  little  churches.  But  the  churches, 
and  the  houses,  too,  are  built  of  wood  —  imagine 
that !  How  rich  every  one  must  be,  to  use  wood 
like  that !  The  houses  are  painted  white,  with 
green  blinds  and  little  pointed  roofs,  the  quaintest 
thing  that  ever  was  seen ;  and  such  lots  of  little 
flower  gardens  and  such  lots  of  hens  running 
about,  I  never  did  see. 

But  the  peasants  themselves,  I  regret  to  say, 
are  not  so  agreeable  as  in  France.  They  are 
very  long  and  lean  and  stylish  (there's  no  costume 
of  the  country  here,  it  appears :  the  women  all 
wear  pink  blouses  and  chic  hats,  and  the  men  — )  ; 
but  they  sometimes  have  not  very  nice  manners, 
I  own.  They  scowl  in  such  an  independent  way 
when  Auguste,  the  chauffeur,  calls  out  to  know 
the  way ;  the  little  boys  sometimes  throw  stones ; 
and  then  there's  one  kind  of  peasant  who  sticks 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  road  with  his  cart  and 
won't  let  the  automobile  pass,  whether  to  one 
side  or  the  other.  But,  then,  the  air  is  so  fresh 
and  clear,  and  the  pretty  little  girls  throw  flowers, 
and  I  love  so  the  things  we  get  to  eat  at  the 
funny  little  hotels  !  Mrs.  Cobb  scolds,  and  says 
the  food  is  atrocious ;  because  we  get  nothing 

86 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

but  beans  cooked  with  molasses  and  pork  (so 
droll !)  and  —  oh,  so  many  different  kinds  of 
pastry  !  They  call  it  pie ;  but  I  love  it  and  eat 
them  all.  Oh,  I  like  America  ! 

As  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  wore  on, 
the  air  grew  fresher;  every  now  and  then  we 
caught  glimpses  of  the  sea. 

"We're  nearly  there!"  said  Mrs.  Cobb.  A 
red  spot  burned  on  each  cheek,  and  I  could  see 
she  was  thinking  of  her  darling  boy.  But  the 
same  reason  that  urged  her  on  held  me  behind. 
The  blood  was  in  my  cheeks,  too ;  I  could  feel  it 
burning.  But  —  ah,  not  with  delight !  What 
was  I  going  to  see,  now  at  last  that  the  moment 
had  come  for  beholding  my  husband  ? 

So  it  can  be  imagined  that  a  little  while  after 
six  o'clock,  when  the  limousine  blew  out  its 
carburetor,  or  its  magnometer,  or  something 
like  that,  I  was  not  so  heartbroken  as  the  rest ! 
In  fact,  I  was  delighted.  Another  hour  of  free- 
dom, —  another  hour  before  my  fate  should  close 
on  me  and  grip  me,  never  to  let  go  again ! 

"  Now  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?"  cried  Mrs. 
Cobb,  almost  in  tears. 

It  transpired,  you  see,  that  Auguste  would  have 
87 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

to  go  to  the  town  himself  to  get  the  part  that 
was  needed,  because,  as  it  was  an  imported  car, 
no  one  else  could  understand ;  and  Ludovic, 
the  electrician,  had  to  go  with  him  because  no  one 
else  could  speak  French  and  English  too,  and  so 
interpret  for  him.  Oh,  it  was  a  mixed  up  and 
confused  affair !  Then,  of  course,  Mrs.  Cobb 
couldn't  stay,  because  her  darling  boy  was  waiting 
for  her,  only  an  hour  or  so  ahead.  During  all 
these  consultations,  the  touring  car  with  the 
servants  was  drawn  up  alongside ;  and  finally  it 
was  decided  that  Mrs.  Cobb  and  the  two  French- 
men should  get  into  the  touring  car,  where  there 
were  already  several  places  to  spare. 

"And  you,  dear  child?"  asked  Mrs.  Cobb, 
hopping  out  of  the  limousine  and  into  the  other 
car  with  a  lightness  that  surprised  me. 

"  I  will  do  precisely  as  you  wish,  dear  Madame," 
I  answered  meekly,  as  I  knew  better  than  to  let 
her  see  that  I  wanted  to  stay.  "  It  seems  to  me 
that  in  these  first  sacred  moments  of  encounter 
between  mother  and  son  a  stranger  could  be  only 
superfluous  — " 

Mrs.  Cobb  looked  relieved.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  I  could  see  that  she  anticipated  some  rather 

88 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

strong  discussions  in  her  first  sacred  moments  with 
her  darling  boy.  Just  as  well,  perhaps,  that  the 
subject  of  these  discussions  should  delay  her 
arrival  for  such  time  as  was  possible !  So  she 
looked  delighted  and  relieved,  and  accepted  with 
joy  my  proposition  that  I  should  wait  in  the 
disabled  limousine  till  Auguste  came  back  and 
fetched  us. 

"  You  can  keep  your  Genevieve,  dear,"  she 
said  fondly,  "  and,  let  me  see  —  the  cook  must 
come  on  —  but  I  can  spare  my  masseuse ;  she's 
very  strong  in  case  anything  happened,  dear  child." 

"There  are  Indians  about?"  I  asked  with 
just  a  little  bit  of  doubt.  Mrs.  Cobb  assured  me 
that  the  dangerous  ones  were  all  dead,  and  that 
I  was  near  home,  anyway. 

"  You  are  already  on  Mt.  Desert  Island,"  she 
said.  "  That  was  the  bridge  we  passed  five 
minutes  ago.  You  are  no  more  than  a  half-hour 
from  Bar  Harbor.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  at  the 
most,  therefore,  you  may  expect  Auguste  back 
again.  Or  —  why  not  ?  Yes,  dear  child,  if  Vic- 
tor is  there,  and  if  I  can  talk  him  into  good  humor, 
I  will  send  him  back  himself  to  fetch  you !" 

89 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Here  was  an  agreeable  prospect !  A  tete-a- 
tete  drive,  on  my  first  encounter  with  my  new 
fiance  !  What  should  we  talk  about  —  and  would 
he  try  to  kiss  me  ?  I  felt  cold  and  hairy  all  over 
at  the  thought.  However,  it  was  too  late  to 
draw  out !  ] 

"Ta-ta,  sweet  child!"  cried  Mrs.  Cobb,  as  she 
waved  her  hand  from  the  other  automobile.  There 
was  a  puff,  a  toot,  and  they  were  off.  I  sat  there 
alone  between  poor  old  Genevieve,  who  clasped 
the  jewel  box  and  sniffed,  and  the  massage  woman, 
who  rubbed  her  long  hands  together  and  growled 
at  the  whole  business. 

As  for  me,  however,  I  liked  it.  To  be  sure,  it 
was  a  bleak,  savage  sort  of  scene,  not  a  bit  like 
France;  but  it  pleased  me  just  the  same.  It 
seemed  to  me  I  had  been  set  down  in  the  midst 
of  mountains,  —  bleak,  windy-looking  mountains 
whose  slopes  ran  down  to  the  cold  gray  line  of 
the  sea.  In  spite  of  the  little  houses  scattered 
here  and  there  along  the  shore,  and  in  spite  of  the 
automobiles  that  occasionally  passed,  it  seemed  to 
me  I  had  never  before  been  in  so  sad  and  solitary 
a  place.  Though  it  was  June,  we  seemed  to  have 
left  summer  behind  us  in  New  York.  As  we  sat 

90 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

and  waited,  a  cold,  fluttering  wind  began  to  blow 
up  out  of  the  sea,  with  a  wet  smell  like  rain.  Yet 
it  wasn't  rain,  after  all ;  but  white  ribbons  and 
streamers  like  mist ;  then  suddenly  a  mass  of  fog, 
like  a  great,  white  sea  monster,  that  swooped 
down  on  us  and  swallowed  us  up.  So  there  we 
were,  the  three  of  us,  cut  off  in  a  little,  narrow, 
salt-smelling  world  of  our  own.  Somewhere  in 
the  distance  a  foghorn  began  to  roar,  just  like  the 
steamer.  Genevieve  crossed  herself  with  a  shiv- 
ering hand,  and  began  to  pray. 

"  Oh,  why  did  we  ever  leave  our  dear  France, 
to  come  to  this  country  of  savages  ?"  she  said. 

"Hark!"  I  cried. 

It  was  only  another  automobile  passing;  but 
it  tore  up  very  close  to  us,  giving  a  moment's 
glimpse  of  a  low,  gray  racing  machine,  with  a 
pair  of  eager  eyes  that  stared  through  the  mist 
above  the  driving  wheel.  Touf-touf-touf !  then 
it  disappeared  into  the  fog,  touf-toufed  again ; 
then  —  I  heard  its  puffs  coming  back.  A  moment 
later  the  fog  opened  and  the  gray  machine  drew 
up  beside  the  limousine,  like  a  tugboat  beside  the 
Kaiser  Wilhelm.  A  young  man  was  in  the 
driver's  seat.  He  took  off  his  glasses,  and  I  saw 

91 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

his  blue  eyes  as  he  examined  the  name  plate  of 
the  limousine. 

"  It's  a  Fiat  machine,  all  right,"  he  said  to  the 
mechanician  seated  beside  him.  Then,  taking 
off  his  cap,  he  sprang  to  the  ground  and  bowed 
to  me. 

I  will  not  deny  my  heart  gave  a  jump  that 
nearly  suffocated  me.  At  last,  the  moment  had 
come  ! 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  smiling,  as  he  held  out  his 
hand,  "that  my  mother  has  sent  me  to  look  for 
you." 

Ah,  Victor !  After  all  the  telegraphing,  and 
the  scheming,  and  the  arguing,  here  we  are  to- 
gether at  last !  I  did  not  say  this  aloud,  however. 
I  merely  leaned  down  from  the  limousine  window 
and  gave  him  my  hand.  "How  do  you  do, 
Monsieur  Victor?"  I  began  to  say,  but,  if  you 
will  believe  me,  my  voice  died  away  like  Portia's 
when  she  makes  the  responses  in  church.  I 
don't  know  why  it  was,  but  those  blue  eyes 
seemed  to  run  through  me  and  leave  me  no  hiding 
place  even  in  the  inside  of  my  soul.  How  dif- 
ferent they  were  from  the  miniature,  those  eyes, 
—  unlike  and  like  at  the  same  time !  Their 

92 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

color  and  shape,  so  much  the  artist  had  caught; 
but  in  the  foolish  little  miniature,  what  a  simper, 
like  a  smirking  boulevardier  —  and  in  the  living 
eyes,  what  fire,  what  force,  what  kindness  ! 

This  impression,  however,  was  all  in  the  flash 
of  a  moment.  Naturally,  I  could  not  remain 
staring  like  an  imbecile;  so  I  inquired  as  politely 
as  I  could  :  — 

"  So  your  mother  arrived  home  safely  ?" 

"Yes,  and  sent  me  off  at  once  to  look  for  you. 
Heavens  !  It  was  a  shameful  trick,  leaving  you 
alone  like  this.  What  will  you  think  of  our  Bar 
Harbor  hospitality  ?" 

He  seemed  quite  outraged  at  the  way  I  had 
been  treated.  It  was  delicious  to  see  any  one  so 
big  and  strong  angry  like  this  for  my  sake.  It 
made  me  feel  taken  care  of  and  protected,  some- 
how, as  I  had  not  since  my  dear  papa  died.  Oh, 
decidedly  he  was  what  papa  would  have  called 
a  "  chic  type,"  this  Victor  ! 

However,  I  laughed  and  said :  "  It  was  my 
fault;  for  I  offered  to  wait.  And  you  see  there's 
no  harm  done;  you  found  me,  after  all." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered ;  "  though  it  seemed  a 
rather  desperate  task,  —  in  a  real  Bar  Harbor 

93 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR  , 

fog,  to  be  sent  searching  for  a  young  lady  I  had 
never  seen.  But,  you  see,  my  mother  described 
you  to  me." 

I  could  not  help  laughing.  "And  she  described 
you  to  me!" 

"I  knew  that  you  had  black  eyes!"  he  cried. 

"And  I  knew,"  cried  I,  "that  your  eyes  were 
blue  !" 

Then,  as  I  met  the  glance  of  those  bright  blue 
eyes,  I  realized  how  strange,  how  bold,  a  thing  I 
had  said.  What  would  he  think  of  me  ?  Even 
to  a  fiance,  one  does  not  say  such  things  at  a  first 
interview.  I  felt  myself  blushing,  —  blushing 
red,  blushing  crimson,  blushing  fire !  But  how 
kind  he  was,  Victor,  and  what  a  man  of  the 
world !  Instead  of  laughing  at  me,  or  paying 
me  silly  compliments  as  the  young  men  did  on 
the  boat,  he  merely  opened  the  limousine  door. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  to  take  you 
home.  I  will  leave  my  man  here  to  take  charge 
of  the  limousine  until  the  mechanician  comes 
back.  As  for  the  maids,  they  can  wait  with 
him.  Will  you  come  ?" 

I  hesitated.  The  gray  racing  machine  looked 
so  rakish  and  dangerous,  somehow,  with  its  long, 

94 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

low  lines  and  its  places  for  just  two  !  To  go  off 
this  way,  alone  with  a  young  man  in  the  fog  and 
gathering  night  —  what  would  my  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth, what  would  my  Aunt  Felicite,  say  to  that  ? 

"  Come,  please !  Surely  you  don't  want  to 
stay  here,  to  starve  and  catch  cold  in  the  fog?" 

His  voice,  though  so  gentle,  had  a  command- 
ing note  in  it  that  made  me  feel  like  a  child.  How 
old  was  he  ?  A  little  older,  perhaps,  than  I  had 
thought  from  his  picture.  It  was  his  new  mus- 
tache, perhaps,  that  added  a  year  or  two.  Still, 
thirty  was  the  utmost  age  that  could  be  given 
him,  —  so  much  younger,  after  all,  than  Aunt 
Elizabeth,  who  always  stirred  me  up  to  a  wicked 
sort  of  rebellion  when  she  gave  me  her  com- 
mands. But  when  Victor  said  "Come!"  it 
seemed  like  papa  saying  it,  and  I  went. 

He  helped  me  into  the  rakish,  low  seat  of  the 
racing  car,  and  tucked  the  robe  about  my  feet. 
The  wind  had  loosened  my  hair,  so  that  it  blew  in 
little  wet  curls  about  my  face  —  so  untidy  !  I 
put  up  my  hand  to  push  it  back  under  my  veil ; 
but  Victor  looked  up  sharply  at  me.  "  No ! " 
he  said.  "Let  it  stay  like  that!"  Really,  it 
was  ridiculous,  the  way,  when  he  said  a  thing,  it 

95 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

didn't  seem  possible  to  do  anything  else  !  The 
thought  ran  through  my  mind :  very  convenient, 
too,  in  a  husband  ! 

After  arranging  me  all  comfortable  in  my  seat, 
Victor  turned  back  to  give  a  few  last  directions 
to  his  chauffeur,  and  reassure  poor  old  sniffing 
Genevieve  and  the  growling  massage  woman. 
He  spoke  French  so  nicely,  after  all  the  fearful 
gibberish  one  hears  in  America,  it  was  quite  a 
delight  to  hear  him.  Then,  as  he  stood  a  moment 
more  by  the  limousine,  talking  with  his  man,  I 
just  dared  to  lift  my  eyes  and  look  at  his  back  for 
an  instant;  and  I  thought  of  the  joke  Uncle 
Porthaven  used  to  make  about  tombstones,  that 
sometimes  they  spoke  the  truth  ! 

And  in  that  minute,  as  my  eyes  rested  on  that 
tall,  alert  back  and  the  tanned  line  of  neck  show- 
ing between  the  close-cropped  blonde  hair  and  the 
collar  of  the  English  motor  coat,  —  in  that  mo- 
ment I  realized  for  the  first  time,  not  in  a  vague 
distant  vision,  but  as  a  real,  living  fact,  that  I 
was  to  be  married  in  six  weeks  and  this  man  was 
to  be  my  husband.  But  here  was  the  strange 
thing,  —  this  thought,  which  until  now  had 
chilled  me  like  the  idea  of  a  grim  duty,  now 

96 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

seemed  to  me  the  most  natural,  pleasant  thing  in 
the  world.  And  it  dawned  on  me  that  if  I  could 
have  picked  from  the  whole  world  of  men  for  my 
husband,  this  man  whom  Fate  had  already 
selected  for  me  was  the  one  that  I  would  have 
chosen. 

So  he  jumped  into  the  car  beside  me,  threw  the 
lever,  and  we  were  off.  The  fog  closed  around 
us.  I  had  a  strange,  wild  sensation,  like  drop- 
ping through  air  on  a  falling  star.  "  If  getting 
married  is  going  to  be  like  this,"  I  thought  to 
myself  in  a  confused  sort  of  way,  "  then  I'm  sure 
I  needn't  have  been  so  afraid  of  it,  after  all !" 
Then  the  thought  came  to  me  that  this  was  what 
I  had  been  coaxed  to  do,  bribed  to  do,  in  fact 
paid  to  do,  —  to  sit  beside  Victor  always,  and 
share  his  life  for  the  rest  of  my  life  !  Ah,  what  a 
farce !  Paid  to  do  the  thing  that  pleased  me 
more  than  anything  else  I  had  ever  done  in  all 
my  life  !  It  seemed  so  ridiculous  that  I  laughed 
out  loud. 

Victor  turned  as  quick  as  a  dash.  "Why  do 
you  laugh  ?"  he  said,  and  his  eyes  shone  into  mine. 

I  could  not  very  well  tell  the  truth  —  now, 
could  I  ?  So  I  invented  an  answer.  "  I  laugh," 

97 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  said,  "  because  the  fog  makes  tears  on  my  lashes. 
See  !  So,  if  I  did  not  laugh,  perhaps  you  would 
think  I  was  weeping  !" 

"Please  do  !"  he  begged. 

"What  ?"  I  cried.  "You  would  be  glad,  then, 
if  these  were  real  tears  ?" 

"  Perhaps,"  he  answered,  and  his  eyes  twinkled 
with  a  kind  of  gay  mockery  that  hinted,  somehow, 
at  depths  more  serious  than  the  tears  he  jested 
about.  "  Yes,  who  knows?  If  I  thought  that  per- 
haps I  might  have  the  privilege  of  drying  them  — " 

"Now,"  I  said  to  myself,  "now  he's  going  to 
say  something  !" 

But  he  didn't.  He  only  went  back  to  his  wheel 
again,  quite  grave  and  businesslike.  Then  he 
turned  with  a  laugh. 

"  I've  a  confession  to  make,"  he  said.  "  I'm 
driving  her  in  half  speed.  Somehow  —  I  can't 
explain  it ;  but  it's  a  fact  —  somehow,  I'm  in  no 
hurry  to  get  home.  Are  you  ?" 

"  Your  mother  will  be  waiting,"  I  said,  shaking 
my  finger  at  him  the  way  Ermentrude  used  to  do 
at  the  curate. 

Victor,  however,  seemed  more  impressionable 
than  the  curate.  He  stared  at  me  in  such  a  strange 

98 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

way,  and  then  a  curious  thing  happened.  The 
red  crept  up  under  his  tanned  skin  —  up,  up  to 
his  forehead.  And  suddenly  the  veins  on  his 
temple,  which  I  had  not  even  seen  before,  started 
out  like  cords. 

"Now  he's  going  to  say  something  !"  I  said  to 
myself  again.  "  Now  the  moment  has  come  that 
I've  been  so  afraid  of  !  Now  —  now,  perhaps, 
he's  going  to  kiss  me  !" 

But  he  didn't.  He  turned  back  to  his  wheel, 
as  before.  And  for  the  second  time  in  my  life 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  a  queer  sidelong  glance 
into  that  living  mystery  that  half  the  world  carry 
with  them,  which  is  known  as  a  woman's  heart. 
My  first  glance  had  been  in  the  cabin  of  the 
Kaiser  Wilhelm,  when  Mrs.  Cobb,  speaking  to 
me  of  the  son  I  now  saw  before  me,  had  revealed 
the  longing  and  the  disappointment  that  tore  at 
each  other  in  her  heart.  And  now  I  —  I,  myself, 
what  did  I  feel  ?  I  had  looked  forward  with  dis- 
may, with  horror  even,  to  the  time  when  my 
future  husband  should  claim  his  right  to  kiss  me. 
But  now  —  be  honest,  Lili !  —  when  the  moment 
had  come  that  I  thought  he  was  going  to,  and  then 
he  didn't,  a  sudden  strange  pain  shot  through  my 

99 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

heart.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Where  was  the  trans- 
formation, and  what  the  miracle  ? 

Suddenly  he  leaned  toward  me.  "  Your  veil  is 
coming  undone,"  he  said.  "  May  I  tie  it  for  you  ? " 

"But  the  car?"  I  whispered.  Provoking! 
my  voice  had  failed  me  in  the  stupidest  way,  and 
I  could  only  whisper.  However,  he  did  not  seem 
to  notice. 

"  I  can  drive  with  one  hand,"  he  said,  smiling, 
"and  tie  the  veil  with  the  other.  I  am  a  sailor, 
you  see,  and  the  first  examination  we  pass  is  in 
tying  knots  with  one  hand." 

The  veil,  heavy  with  mist,  whipped  my  face  with 
cold  streamers.  But  Victor's  hand,  bare  and  wet, 
touched  my  face  with  a  strange  kind  of  warmth. 
What  was  it,  the  strange,  sudden  warmth  that  he 
carried  with  him  ?  Was  it  that  made  him  different 
from  any  other  human  being  I  had  ever  known  — 
even  my  dear  papa  whom  I  loved  so  ?  But  this  — 
a  joy  so  new  and  so  acute  as  to  be  almost  pain  ! 
Every  moment  more,  every  moment  more,  I  seemed 
to  be  caught  away  in  something  blind  and  golden, 
that  filled  my  soul  as  the  sea  fog  filled  my  eyes. 

The  wet  streamers  of  chiffon  licked  my  face 
and  wrapped  themselves  around  Victor's  hand  as 

IOO 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

he  tried  to  bring  them  into  order.  The  strange 
thing  was  that,  though  I  had  never  felt  anything 
of  the  kind  before,  nor  even  heard  any  one  talk 
that  had  had  such  an  experience,  yet  it  seemed  to 
me  quite  plain,  from  the  expression  of  Victor's 
eyes,  that  he  was  feeling  just  the  same  as  I.  Sud- 
denly I  remembered  Uncle  Porthaven's  library 
and  the  books  I  had  read  there ;  and,  according 
to  the  habit  that  I  have  tried  to  make  in  life,  I 
forced  myself  to  look  for  the  scientific  truth. 
"This  is  love!"  I  said  to  myself.  "This  is  not 
magic,  but  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world.  We 
are  falling  in  love  !" 

Victor's  hand,  wet  with  the  fog,  touched  my 
wet  cheek;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  some  one 
was  stroking  me  all  over  with  folds  of  warm  velvet. 
A  little  curl  blew  out  in  a  foolish  way  and  caught 
about  his  finger.  And  —  oh,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
a  summer  wind  was  blowing  among  the  roots  of 
my  hair  —  a  warm,  garden  wind,  scented  with 
flowers.  Oh,  strange,  strange  moment !  Oh, 
sweet  and  wicked  moment  when  it  seemed  to  me 
one  instant  that  the  breath  I  drew  was  that  of  a 
queen  and  the  next  instant  that  of  a  slave  ! 

I  laughed. 

101 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"Why  do  you  laugh  ?"  asked  Victor. 

"Nothing,"  answered  I.  That  was  a  fib; 
for  I  couldn't  tell  him  —  could  I,  now  ?  —  that 
I  had  just  remembered  all  my  qualms  and  terrors 
at  the  idea  of  the  moment  when  I  should  have  to 
let  him  kiss  me.  But  the  notion  wasn't  so  terrible, 
after  all.  No,  no,  quite  trie  contrary ;  and  some- 
how at  the  thought  little  thrills  seemed  to  run  down 
my  arms  and  out  at  my  finger  tips,  like  electricity, 
and  I  felt  all  warm  and  trembly  and  almost  wild, 
as  I  met  Victor's  eyes.  How  did  I  know  it  ?  I 
don't  know ;  but  I  did  know  that  the  same  thought 
was  in  his  head  that  was  in  mine.  His  blue  eyes 
went  from  my  eyes  to  my  lips,  then  back  to  my 
eyes  again.  Oh,  how  lovely  life  was  in  that  mo- 
ment !  Oh,  dear  and  lovely  life  ! 

But  the  moment  ended,  like  all  beautiful  things. 
The  automobile,  turning  in  at  a  wide,  stone  gate, 
flew  up  a  long  driveway  between  rows  of  tall, 
dripping  trees.  The  house  was  long,  low,  and 
covered  with  vines  like  an  English  parsonage  — 
so  pretty  !  The  next  moment  the  door  opened 
and  an  elderly  butler  came  down  the  wide  steps 
to  meet  us.  He  bowed  low  to  me ;  then  addressed 
Victor  in  a  discreetly,  inaudible  voice. 

102 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

"No!"  cried  Victor.  "Jove,  now!  That's 
a  rotten  shame  —  I  beg  your  pardon  ! "  He  turned 
to  me.  "  What  do  you  think  ?  My  poor  mother 
just  had  a  wire  from  Baltimore,  from  her  brother 
who's  very  ill  there  —  apoplexy,  poor  old  boy  ! 
He's  very  low,  not  expected  to  last  more  than  a 
day  or  two.  Poor  old  boy  —  I'm  sorry,  I'm 
sorry  !  So  mother  left  at  once,  by  the  six  o'clock 
train.  Jove  !  not  very  polite  to  you ;  but  you 
understand,  don't  you  ?" 

He  appeared  so  anxious  that  I  should  under- 
stand !  But,  to  tell  the  truth,  though  I  was  sorry 
for  the  poor  gentleman  that  was  dying,  I  wasn't 
so  sorry  —  not  heartbroken,  that  is  —  to  think 
of  the  days  before  me  free,  quite  free,  from  my 
future  mother-in-law's  company  and  conversation. 
But  Victor  kept  on  explaining  and  apologizing. 
We  drifted  into  the  entrance  hall,  —  a  huge  place 
like  the  baronial  court  at  Porthaven,  all  skins  and 
stagheads,  with  a  fire  at  one  end  where  they 
seemed  to  be  burning  a  whole  tree  at  once.  A 
smart  maid  hovered  near. 

Victor,  as  though  in  sudden  relief,  drew  a  long 
breath.  "  But  my  aunt's  here,  of  course.  She'll 
receive  you  and  chaperon  you,  all  right."  He 

103 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

turned  to  the  maid,  who  addressed  him  anxiously 
in  French :  — 

"  Oh,  Monsieur,  have  you  heard  the  news  ? 
Madame  received  a  telegram  and  left  at  once  — 
at  once  !  She  left  all  her  apologies  and  a  thousand 
affectionate  things  for  Mademoiselle.  She  will 
write  to-night  on  the  train  — " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Victor  interrupted  this  torrent 
of  eloquence.  "  Go  and  ask  Madame  Vanhuysen 
if  she  will  be  so  good  as  to  come  downstairs." 

"  Yes,  Monsieur."     The  maid  vanished. 

Then,  as  the  butler  appeared  with  tea,  Victor 
and  I  sat  down  in  front  of  the  great  blazing  fire 
to  drink  it.  How  beautifully  he  poured  it  out; 
how  skillfully  he  arranged  the  footstools  so  that 
my  feet  were  just  on  the  edge  of  the  fender, 
though  as  a  matter  of  fact,  my  shoes  weren't 
wet  a  bit.  But  it  was  so  pleasant  to  let  Victor 
take  care  of  me  !  So  we  drank  our  tea  together 
while  he  made  plans  for  the  summer,  —  wonderful 
plans,  all  automobiles  and  aeroplanes  and  balls 
and  races ;  everything,  in  fact,  but  the  great  plan 
of  all  which  he  never  mentioned.  That  was  nice 
of  him;  for,  somehow,  to  have  spoken  of  it  now 
would  have  spoiled  everything. 

104 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Suddenly  there  was  a  brisk  step  behind  me  and 
the  whisper  of  trailing  satin.  I  turned  to  face 
a  thin  little  lady,  very  erect  and  dignified,  not  at 
all  like  Mrs.  Cobb.  I  sprang  to  my  feet. 

"  You  know  the  news  already,  my  dear  Henry," 
she  said.  "  Your  mother  was  so  sorry,  so  very 
sorry,  to  leave  us  as  she  did  !  But  her  poor 
brother !"  She  sighed.  "  And  so  this  is  the 
young  lady,"  she  said,  turning  to  me  with  a  pale 
smile.  "  Welcome  to  Stornaway,  my  dear  child  !" 

Henry !  Why  did  she  call  Victor,  Henry  ? 
My  head  swam.  And  the  next  minute  I  heard 
the  little  lady's  voice  saying  :  — 

"  But  there's  some  mistake  !  My  dear  Henry, 
I  thought  we  were  expecting  Fanny  Carroll!" 

"  Miss  Carroll,  certainly,  Aunt  Mary  !" 

Was  it  all  a  dream  ?  Were  my  ears  wrong,  or 
had  the  whole  world  slipped  awry  ?  "  Miss  Car- 
roll ?"  I  gasped.  "  But  I'm  Lili  de  Vauquieres  !" 

"  What  ?"  My  new  friend  looked  at  me,  and 
I  looked  at  him.  His  eyes  were  quite  changed 
and  pierced  through  me.  Did  he  in  that  moment 
feel  what  I  felt  ?  Ah  !  the  beautiful  visions  that 
had  floated  half  seen  between  us,  —  where  were 
they  now,  since  Victor  was  not  Victor,  after  all  ? 

105 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  And  Fanny,  meanwhile,  where  is  she  ?  And 
this  young  lady's  friends,  what  are  their  feelings  ? 
I  think,  Henry,  that  you  will  owe  apologies  all 
around  !" 

Henry  turned  to  me.  His  eyes  were  tragic. 
"  How  can  I  explain  ?"  he  said  humbly.  "  But 
you  see  I  only  arrived  home  at  lunch  time,  and  Miss 
Carroll  had  already  gone  off  on  a  day's  excursion. 
I'd  never  met  her,  you  know,  —  she  spends  all  her 
time  in  London,  and  I  am  nailed  to  my  office  in 
New  York.  So,  when  word  came  by  telephone 
that  the  car  had  blown  off  a  cylinder  head  out 
there  by  the  bridge,  I  was  a  bit  doubtful  about 
going  alone  to  find  her.  However,  mother  gave 
me  the  description  —  Carmen,  she  said,  set  right 
down  here  in  this  island  of  Mount  Desert !  By 
Jove  !"  he  made  a  gesture  of  desperation.  "  How 
was  it  possible  to  mistake  ?  For,  if  you'll  excuse 
me,  Miss  —  er — "  he  hesitated  on  the  name, 
"  if  you'll  excuse  me,  famous  beauties  aren't  so 
very  common,  especially  those  of  the  Spanish 
type,  that  a  man  might  expect  to  find  more  than 
one  waiting  to  be  rescued  in  this  northern  fog  !" 

He  smiled  at  me,  and  I  smiled  miserably  back. 

"  Yes,  that  will  do  for  your  explanation,"  came 
1 06 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

the  brisk  voice  of  Mrs.  Vanhuysen ;  "  but  mean- 
while there's  poor  Fanny  still  waiting  in  the  fog, 
and  this  young  lady's  friends  waiting  for  her!" 
She  turned  to  me  suddenly  with  keen  eyes  of 
inquiry  that  convicted  me  suddenly  of  guilt. 

"  Please  excuse  me,"  I  faltered.  "  I'm  visiting 
Mrs.  Cobb  —  Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb.  You  see, 
I'm  a  stranger ;  so  when  she  had  left  me  alone  in 
the  auto,  and  promised  to  send  back  her  son,  I 
naturally  thought  —  " 

"  Yes,  a  very  natural  mistake  all  around,  and 
a  very  odd  coincidence  into  the  bargain.  So  you 
took  me  for  Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb  and  my 
nephew  here  for  her  son  ?"  Though  her  polite- 
ness was  perfect,  yet  in  her  manner  of  pronouncing 
Mrs.  Cobb's  name  I  could  see  that  this  lady  repre- 
sented Society  —  the  Society  toward  which  my 
future  mother-in-law  yearned,  which  had  not  yet 
admitted  her  right  to  exist.  And  I,  Lili,  was  to 
be  the  opening  wedge.  How  miserable  —  how 
miserable  life  was,  after  all !  So  I  stood  there 
like  an  idiot,  while  the  sharp  little  lady  directed 
her  nephew  to  telephone  to  Mrs.  Cobb's  house 
that  I  was  there,  and  at  the  same  time  to  order 
the  auto  to  take  me  home  and  to  search 

107 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

for  the  other  Carmen  young  lady  lost  in  the 
fog. 

Suddenly  there  was  the  horn  of  an  automobile 
outside ;  then  a  ring  at  the  door,  with  voices  and 
laughter.  A  moment  later,  with  a  great  flurry 
of  veils  and  silk  mantle,  a  girl  dashed  in  at  the 
door  and  up  the  long  hall  to  Mrs.  Vanhuysen. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  I'm  late  !  Isn't  it  ridicu- 
lous !  You  see,  the  car  broke  down  over  there  by 
Sorrento,  and  — " 

"  Yes,  you  telephoned,"  returned  the  rigid  little 
American  lady,  "  and  we  immediately  sent  for 
you ;  but  my  nephew  made  a  little  mistake, 
Will  you  allow  me  to  present  him  ?  Miss  Carroll, 
my  nephew,  Henry  Stuart.  And  Miss  Carroll, 
Miss  — "  She  turned  to  me  with  her  little  cool 
air  that,  with  perfect  politeness,  put  me  in  my 
place  as  Mrs.  Cobb's  friend.  I  held  up  my 
head. 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny,"  I 
said  quite  distinctly. 

Miss  Carroll,  still  tugging  at  her  veil,  held  out 
her  hand  with  a  cordiality  that  touched  me  al- 
most to  tears.  "  We've  all  heard  of  you  :  you're 
famous  already,"  she  cried.  "  You're  in  America 

108 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

visiting  Mrs.  Cobb,  and  you're  going  to  marry 
her  son  on  the  tenth  of  August !" 

There  was  an  instant's  silence.  My  new 
friend's  eyes  touched  me  —  touched  me  like  fire. 
I  couldn't  speak.  But  he  spoke. 

"  You're  the  fiancee  of  Victor  Cobb  ?"  he  said. 
"  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Mademoiselle !" 

I  couldn't  speak,  I  couldn't  even  feel.  But  I 
heard  Mrs.  Vanhuysen's  tight  little  voice  say- 
ing:— 

"  So,  when  you  took  my  nephew  for  Mr.  Victor 
Cobb,  it  was  even  more  interesting  than  we 
thought  — " 

"  Ah,"  cried  Miss  Carroll,  "  I've  not  only  read 
about  you,  Mademoiselle,  but  I've  seen  you 
before!" 

With  a  final  gesture  she  threw  off  her  little  auto- 
mobile bonnet  with  its  enveloping  veil,  and  stood 
flushed  and  sparkling  in  the  firelight.  In  a  flash 
I  recognized  her  —  yes,  the  American  beauty  of 
the  flower  show  at  Brent,  the  other  Carmen  whom 
even  Aunt  Elizabeth  had  said  that  I  resembled, 
and  who  had  first  opened  my  eyes  to  possibilities 
that  I  had  not  dreamed. 

"  At  Brent,  don't  you  remember  ?  The  flower 
109 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

show.     You  were  pointed  out  to  me.     You  were 
with  your  aunt,  the  Duchess  of  Porthaven  — " 

"  What !"  said  Mrs.  Vanhuysen.  "  This  young 
lady  is  the  niece  of  the  Duchess  of  Porthaven  ?" 

Oh,  magic  name  of  Aunt  Elizabeth  !  In  an 
instant  the  intruder,  the  little  unknown  friend  of 
the  upstart  Mrs.  Cobb,  had  become  the  honored 
guest.  To  the  niece  of  the  most  famous  woman 
in  England  (next  to  her  Majesty)  this  dry  little 
American  woman,  my  unwilling  hostess,  became 
supple  and  clinging  like  an  old  glove.  Ah  !  be- 
yond a  doubt  I  realized  in  that  moment  the  good 
bargain  that  Mrs.  Cobb  had  made ;  also  I  recog- 
nized how  inexorably  I  was  held  by  it,  and  at 
what  price. 

Henry  drove  me  home.  We  didn't  talk  very 
much ;  but  as  we  passed  under  a  huge,  castellated 
gate,  and  wound  up  a  long  driveway,  all  new  and 
raw  and  yellow  in  the  fog,  he  leaned  toward  me. 

"  So,  Mademoiselle,  you  are  going  to  marry 
Victor  Cobb?" 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  under  my  breath. 

"  And  yet,  Mademoiselle  —  excuse  me ;  but 
this  is  what  has  been  puzzling  me  —  you  took  me 
for  him  !  For  him,  your  fiance  !" 

no 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  I've  never  seen  him  !"  I  answered  faintly.  I 
was  ashamed.  What  would  he  think  of  me,  this 
stranger  who  was  already  more  to  me  than  any 
friend  ? 

"  Well,  I'll  be  damned  !  Excuse  me  —  but 
how—" 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Cobb  arranged  the  marriage. 
And  my  aunt  consented,  and  so  —  so  what  could 
I  do?" 

Before  a  huge  mound  of  building,  dwindling 
off  in  the  mist  with  Norman  turrets  and  Moorish 
domes  and  who  knows  what  else  besides  the  car 
came  to  a  stop.  My  new  friend  jumped  to  the 
ground  and  held  out  his  hand  to  me.  As  I  de- 
scended with  his  aid  he  bent  suddenly  toward  me. 

"  Tell  me,  Mademoiselle  —  you  took  me  for 
your  new  fiance.  Suppose  —  suppose  you  had 
been  right,  after  all,  would  you  have  been  very 
much  displeased  ?" 

His  blue  eyes  laughed  at  me,  but  with  some- 
thing behind  them  that  was  not  laughter  at  all. 
And  all  at  once  into  my  own  eyes  came  something 
that  blinded  and  stung.  Henry's  image  blurred 
and  swam  before  me;  but  I  heard  his  voice  say- 
ing, quick  and  breathless  :  — 

III 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"What?    What?" 

The  chauffeur  had  disappeared  on  the  other 
side  of  the  car.  The  house  was  a  grim  blank  in 
the  fog.  And  suddenly  as  Henry  stooped  toward 
me  I  had  the  impression  that  he  was  going  to  kiss 
me.  Just  for  a  minute  —  the  sweetest,  most 
terrible  instant  of  my  life  —  the  impression 
touched  me ;  only  the  impression,  however,  and 
nothing  more.  For  the  next  instant  the  great 
door  swung  open  in  a  blaze  of  light,  and  a  footman 
began  a  leisurely  march  down  the  steps.  And 
the  next  minute,  in  a  flurry  of  mantle  and  veil 
that  she  had  not  even  removed,  Mrs.  Cobb  came 
tearing  after  him. 

"Is  it  her?     Is  it  you,  Lili  ?" 

Yes,  I  was  touched  —  in  spite  of  everything  I 
was  touched  by  her  affection  as  she  seized  me  and 
kissed  me  and  exclaimed  over  me.  "  What  a 
scare  you  have  given  us  !  Oh,  it's  been  perfectly 
terrible  !  They  found  the  car  with  nothing  but 
the  servants  in  it  and  you  kidnaped  by  a  per- 
fect stranger  !  We've  been  telephoning  all  over 
the  island  — " 

Henry  stepped  forward  with  explanations  and 
apologies.  Henry  !  what  right  had  I  to  call  him 

112 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Henry,  even  in  my  thoughts  ?  As  I  saw  him 
standing  there  beside  Mrs.  Cobb,  I  realized  how 
far  I  had  let  myself  wander  in  the  land  of  dreams. 
The  gentleman  that  I  saw  before  me  was  a  stran- 
ger, a  courteous  stranger  —  and  behind  that  door 
waited  my  husband  —  my  husband  ! 

Mr.  Stuart  touched  my  hand,  said  a  few  polite 
words.  The  next  moment  the  fog  had  swallowed 
him  up.  Mrs.  Cobb,  heavy  and  puffing  in  her 
haste,  dragged  me  up  the  steps. 

"  Come,  my  dear,  he's  here  !     Come  !     Come  !" 

We  entered  the  hall,  —  a  blaze  of  electric  light, 
of  gilding,  and  of  many  colored  marbles.  My 
eyes,  dazzled  by  the  brilliance,  were  aware  only 
of  a  tall  figure  that  advanced  to  meet  us. 

"  Darling  boy,  come !  This  is  Elise !  And 
Lili,  this  is  Victor!" 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THAT  evening,  at  the  beginning  of  the  splen- 
did dinner  served  on  gold  plate  and  handed 
by  gold-embroidered  waiters,  I  ate  a  new  shellfish. 
It  was  both  salt  and  bitter,  Mrs.  Cobb  said  like 
the  sea ;  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  tasted  of 
tears. 

"  What  delicious  clams,  Victor !  After  all, 
there's  nothing  like  American  food.  Lili,  you 
must  do  honor  to  your  new  home,  and  eat  all  its 
specialties.  Parker,  clams  to  Mademoiselle  !" 

That  was  the  hardest  part  of  it,  to  have  to  eat ; 
to  have  to  smile,  to  be  gay  —  with  Victor,  the 
real  Victor,  sitting  there  opposite  me,  clinking 
clamshells  and  scowling  into  his  plate. 

"  Big  baby  !  Isn't  he  cute  when  he  sulks  ! " 
cried  his  mamma,  fondly. 

Whether  he  looked  gentil  or  not  was  a  matter 
of  taste;  but  that  he  looked  like  a  baby,  and  a 
sulky  baby  at  that,  was  perfectly  plain.  How 
could  I  ever  have  taken  the  other  one  for  him,  — 
for  this  fat,  clumsy  type  of  a  peasant,  dressed  in 

114 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

a  knitted  blouse  of  white  wool,  with  uncut  yellow 
hair  that  certainly  had  been  combed  by  no  hand 
but  the  winds.  His  hand,  lying  on  the  tablecloth, 
was  thick  and  fat  and  freckled,  with  bristling 
pads  of  hair  between  the  knuckles.  —  Henry's 
hands,  like  his  feet  and  ears,  were  beautifully 
finished,  with  that  unmistakable  look  of  race. 
And  his  carriage,  how  erect  and  easy,  his  glance 
how  alert ! 

Certainly,  and  to  my  sorrow,  there  was  scant 
resemblance  between  the  two  young  men.  Yet 
it  could  not  be  denied  there  was  in  both  a  kind  of 
resemblance  to  the  miniature,  —  as  though  the 
painter,  wishing  to  earn  his  money,  had  copied  rather 
an  ideal  face  that  existed  in  his  own  mind  than 
the  living  model  before  him.  And  this  ideal  type, 
as  might  easily  happen,  was  Henry  Stuart. 

So  much  for  the  resemblance.  But  —  oh,  the 
difference  —  the  difference  !  And  those  abom- 
inable clams  that  I  was  forced  to  choke  down,  with 
their  salt  wash  like  tears  !  To  this  day  I  cannot 
eat  them,  even  disguised  in  cocktails,  without 
tasting  again  the  bitterness  of  that  moment,  and 
my  first  vision  of  what  my  new  life  in  America 
was  to  be. 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  Vicky,  bad  boy  I  What  do  you  mean  by 
coming  to  the  table  in  a  sweater  ?  And  why 
don't  you  have  your  hair  cut?" 

"  We're  in  the  country,"  growled  Victor,  help- 
ing himself  to  more  clams,  —  gormandizer  !  How 
many  he  ate  !  "  As  for  my  hair,  I'm  going  to  let 
it  grow  until  I  can  bite  it." 

"  Then  bite  off  a  lock  for  me,  darling  boy,  and 
one  for  Lili !" 

A  lock  of  hair  for  me,  indeed  !  No,  that  wasn't 
in  the  bargain.  I  would  marry  Victor  and  be 
faithful  to  him,  since  that  is  the  habit  of  our  race ; 
but  what  image  I  carried  in  my  heart  —  and  what 
hair  in  my  locket  —  that  was  my  business ! 
And  I  remembered  the  head  that  had  so  lately 
bent  toward  mine  with  the  hair  —  oh,  so  neatly 
cut  and  brushed,  and  the  little  line  that  showed 
so  blue-white  against  the  tan  of  the  neck  !  But 
it  was  all  a  delusion,  that  ride  through  the  fog, 
wild  and  happy  like  falling  through  space  on  a 
star.  And  here  before  me,  stuffing  clams,  was 
the  reality. 

As  a  protest  against  the  marriage  that  was 
being  forced  upon  him  (so  his  mother  had  hur- 
riedly explained  to  me  before  dinner),  Victor  had 

116 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

announced  his  intention  of  appearing  like  a  bar- 
barian before  his  new  fiancee  and  before  the  styl- 
ish world  here  at  Bar  Harbor.  Accordingly,  he 
came  to  the  table  in  the  same  funny  fisherman 
costume  that  he  had  worn  sailing  in  the  morning, 
and  sat  there  in  a  white,  woolly  heap,  like  a  great 
polar  bear,  while  the  elegant  embroidered  footmen 
served  him  silently. 

So  the  clams  were  taken  away  and  soup  was 
served.  "  Now  is  the  moment,  Lili,"  said  I  to 
myself,  "  if  you  claim  to  be  a  philosopher,  to  vin- 
dicate your  right  to  the  name  ! "  The  sweet  mo- 
ments of  the  afternoon,  the  dear  and  tender  dream 
—  I  would  lock  it  down  in  the  depths  of  my 
heart  as  papa  had  done  with  his  dream  so  long  ago. 
After  all,  if  Victor  disgusted  me,  was  that  not 
what  everybody  (except  little  white  geese  like 
Portia  and  Ermentrude)  expected  in  a  husband  ? 

But,  to  tell  the  truth,  Victor  was  not  really 
disgusting.  No,  in  those  dismal  days  at  Brent, 
when  I  prayed  to  my  husband  to  come  and  rescue 
me,  I  am  sure  he  would  not  have  disgusted  me 
at  all ;  and  even  a  few  hours  earlier,  before  I 
had  learned  to  compare  him  with  the  other,  I  prob- 
ably could  have  accepted  him  with  all  the  phi- 

"7 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

losophy  that  I  aspired  to.  But  now  —  ah,  Saint 
Elizabeth,  my  sacred  patron,  be  with  me  and  give 
me  strength  for  the  day  when  my  husband  shall 
kiss  me  for  the  first  time  !  Afterwards,  perhaps, 
I  shall  grow  used  to  it;  but  the  first  time  — 

Mrs.  Cobb,  who  had  been  gazing  at  her  son  with 
eyes  that  shone  as  I  had  seen  them  shine  when 
she  spoke  of  him  on  the  steamer,  broke  out  in 
sudden  expression  of  her  enthusiasm.  "  Oh, 
Victor,"  she  cried,  "  what  a  boy  you  are  !  I  like 
your  kind,  Victor,  —  I  wish  there  were  more  like 
you  !"  Then,  turning  to  me,  "  Well,  Lili,"  she 
said,  "  you  haven't  told  me  what  you  think  of 
my  bo-oy." 

With  a  jerk  I  pulled  back  my  whirling  thoughts 
to  the  reality  across  the  table,  fat  and  puffy  in 
his  sweater,  with  his  pink  and  white  complexion 
and  his  lusterless  blue  eyes.  But  for  a  moment, 
as  Victor's  eyes  met  mine,  they  lit  with  the  beam 
of  a  sudden  expression,  —  arrogance,  resentment, 
admiration,  call  it  what  you  will.  And  in  that 
fleeting  instant  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  soul  stood 
revealed  to  me,  —  a  soul  that  never  in  its  life 
had  been  thwarted  in  a  caprice,  nor  had  taken 
into  consideration  the  wishes  of  another  person ; 

118 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

but  which  now,  balked  in  its  supreme  desire,  and 
seeing  in  me  the  instrument  of  its  disappoint- 
ment, was  resolved  to  make  me  pay  that  griev- 
ance to  the  utmost.  —  And,  somehow,  finding  the 
idea  of  my  payment  not  so  repulsive,  after  all ; 
for  those  heavy  eyes  said  they  did  not  find  me 
ugly.  No,  I  cannot  tell  what  that  glance  said  ! 
But  it  opened  to  me  a  new  vista  of  the  things  that 
lie  below  the  surface  of  life,  the  things  that  the 
married  ladies  whisper  about  when  they  send  us 
young  girls  out  of  the  room.  And  my  skin  crawled 
as  I  looked  at  Victor's  hands,  red  and  hairy  against 
the  white  lace  tablecloth,  and  his  blue  eyes  that 
examined  me  up  and  down  with  the  arrogant 
curiosity  of  one  who  has  paid  down  the  price  and 
holds  the  right.  Ah,  my  husband  !  That  word 
means  more  than  I  thought,  after  all.  Even  if 
I  had  not  met  the  other  this  afternoon,  that 
glance  of  my  new  owner  would  have  turned  me 
cold. 

But  all  this  was  the  impression  of  a  fleeting 
instant,  and  Mrs.  Cobb's  question  waited.  But 
nothing  better  came  to  my  lips,  with  a  little  hys- 
terical laugh,  than  papa's  old  phrase.  "  A  chic 
type  !"  I  cried,  stupidly  enough. 

119 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

Victor  laughed,  and  again  his  eyes  ran  over  me. 
As  for  his  mother,  she  was  ravished.  "  Oh,  Lili," 
she  said,  "  you're  right !  Wait  till  you  know 
him  better,  and  you'll  find  him  all  you  hope,  and 
mo-ah!" 

After  dinner,  so  far  were  these  optimistic  words 
justified  that  Victor  became  quite  agreeable. 
His  mother  having  expressed  a  wish  to  hear  his 
voice  after  so  many  months'  abstinence,  an  old 
German  lady  (Victor's  governess  of  former  days, 
retained  as  a  kind  of  housekeeper)  was  summoned 
from  upstairs  and  sat  down  before  the  immense 
concert  grand  piano.  So  she  crashed  out  Wagner- 
like  chords  against  which  the  Garde  Republicaine 
could  not  have  made  itself  heard  —  far  less  Victor, 
whose  voice  was  very  husky  and  little,  proceeding 
with  a  very  strange  effect  from  his  large,  wide- 
open  mouth.  However,  that  didn't  matter,  as 
his  mother,  with  her  eyes  rolled  to  the  ceiling, 
heard  him  with  an  ecstasy  that  would  have  dis- 
tinguished her  boy's  voice  above  the  fog  whistle 
of  the  steamer ;  and  as  for  me  —  I  knew  the  songs 
already  by  heart.  The  curate  used  to  sing  them 
interminably  after  dinner,  at  Brent. 

"Oh,Lizer!  dearLizer!" 
1 20 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

And  so  on.  They  never  stop,  those  songs. 
But  after  an  hour  or  two  Victor  did,  to  relate  a 
long  story  of  how  once  in  a  game  of  football  he 
had  nearly  killed  another  chap.  That  is,  he  had 
aimed  a  slug  at  him  which,  if  it  had  hit  the  other 
chap,  would  have  killed  him ;  but  the  other  chap 
dodged.  During  the  recital  of  this  tale  his 
mamma's  sparkling  eyes  said  to  me,  "  Isn't  he  a 
wonder  !"  And  when  it  was  done,  she  proposed 
that  we  should  go  in  a  body  to  the  new  picture 
gallery  to  see  the  famous  portrait  of  her  darling 
boy  by  Chartran. 

"  No !"  shouted  the  darling  boy  (he  always 
speaks  in  a  kind  of  roar  like  the  captain  calling 
to  a  sailor  on  the  ship).  "  The  portrait  can  go 
burn  !  I'm  going  to  the  stable  to  see  my  new 
bull  pups.  Didn't  you  know  Folly  has  had  a 
litter?" 

"  But,  my  dear,  Lili  doesn't  care  for  pups. 
And  you  can't  expect  a  young  lady  to  go  out  in 
all  this  fog  — " 

His  glance  replied,  "  If  Lili  doesn't  care  for 
the  pups,  she  can  go  burn  !" 

But  I  hastened  to  restore  peace  by  professing 
a  fanatical  taste  for  pups.  So  out  we  went, 

121 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

through  the  cold,  wet  dark,  to  look  at  a  heap  of 
little,  blind,  squirming  things.  Victor  put  one 
on  my  bare  neck,  and  roared  when  I  screamed. 
Ah  !  his  hand  on  my  neck !  Yes,  there  is  no 
doubt  about  it,  he  is  my  master  and  he  intends  to 
make  me  pay. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  house  Mrs.  Cobb 
squeezed  my  arm  enthusiastically.  "  You've  made 
such  a  hit  to-night,  dear,  —  at  least  I'm  sure, 
from  the  dear  boy's  tremendous  spirits,  that  he's 
delighted  with  his  little  fiancee.  Cheer  up,  little 
one  :  between  us  we'll  make  him  forget  that  horrid 
showgirl  —  you'll  see  !" 

Forget  his  showgirl  —  ah,  that  was  what  I  was 
afraid  of !  I  wanted  to  laugh  out  loud  —  yet 
I  could  not;  for  in  her  voice  was  that  throb  of 
real  yearning  which  in  our  first  conversations  had 
compelled  my  sympathy,  and  somehow  made 
me  feel  I  was  a  woman,  too.  That  the  object  of 
her  worship  was  prosaic,  even  grotesque,  made 
no  difference.  After  all,  was  her  feeling  more 
irrational  than  the  one  that,  perhaps,  had  come 
into  my  own  heart  that  very  same  day  ?  And 
then,  always  with  the  same  note  of  passion  in  her 
voice,  she  went  on  to  pierce  the  very  center  of  my 

122 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

dreams  —  which,  as  it  happened,  lay  in  the  region 
of  her  dreams  as  well. 

"  So  it  was  Henry  Stuart  that  brought  you 
home  ?  And  you  met  Mrs.  Vanhuysen  ?  I  sup- 
pose you  know  who  she  is  —  but  no,  of  course,  you 
don't  know  anything  yet.  But  I  can  assure  you 
the  name  of  Vanhuysen  — "  she  stopped  to  take 
a  long  breath ;  then,  recovering  herself,  "  What 
was  she  like,  dear  ?" 

"  She  was  very  polite.  She  said  she  knew  my 
Aunt  Elizabeth." 

"  So  you  brought  in  the  Duchess  ?  That  was 
very  tactful  of  you,  dear  —  gratifying,  most  grati- 
fying. And  Mrs.  Stuart,  was  she  there  ?  Mrs. 
Mecklenburgh  Stuart,  my  dear  ? "  She  smacked 
her  lips  religiously  over  the  syllables,  like  Uncle 
Porthaven  sampling  his  hundred-year-old  claret. 
"  Don't  tell  me,  Lili,  that  you  don't  know  that 
name !" 

"  Mrs.  Stuart  wasn't  there.  She  had  just  been 
called  away  by  a  message  to  her  brother  in  Balti- 
more, who  is  dying.  I  thought  all  the  time,  you 
know,  that  it  was  you." 

"  Her  brother,  the  Bishop  !  Ah  !  if  it  were  my 
brother,  my  dear  !"  Her  eyes,  gluttonous  of  so 

123 


HER  WORD  OF   HONOR 

much  grandeur,  dedicated  her  brother  seven  times 
to  the  tomb,  if  so  high  a  title  might  be  cut  upon 
his  marble.  She  drew  a  long  breath.  "  So 
they're  coming  to  see  you,  my  dear  ?" 

"  They  said  so.  That  is,  Miss  Carroll  asked  if 
she  might  come,  and  Mrs.  Vanhuysen  said  she 
hoped  they  might  see  me  there." 

"  Ah  !  and  of  course  the  invitation  includes  your 
chaperon.  Though  I  won't  go,  the  first  time. 
No,  I'll  wait.  But  Miss  Carroll  —  Fanny  Car- 
roll, that  made  such  a  hit  in  London  this  year  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  saw  her  at  Brent,  when  I  was  there 
with  my  aunt." 

"  So  she  saw  you  with  the  Duchess  ?  Oh  !  it's 
really  turning  out  quite  too  splendidly !  And 
Henry  Stuart,  too  !  So  you  took  him  for  Vic- 
tor ?" 

"  Yes  —  you  see,  he  took  me  for  Miss  Carroll." 

"  Very  romantic,  —  a  very  charming  little  ad- 
venture that  has  landed  you  immediately  among 
the  very  people  I  want  you  to  know.  Henry 
Stuart !  He's  been  making  himself  quite  famous 
lately  with  his  aeroplane.  They  say  that  the  other 
day  he  beat  the  Limited  from  Boston  to  New 
York.  We'll  see  him  later,  in  the  aviation  meet 

124 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

here.  And  besides  that,  among  the  young  law- 
yers they  say  he's  quite  the  cleverest  in  New 
York.  Yes,  altogether  quite  the  first  catch  in 
our  set  —  after  my  Victor.  Yes,  there  is  a  re- 
semblance !"  And  her  eyes  went  to  her  darling 
boy,  who  sat  with  his  rubber-soled  shoes  on  an 
embroidered  satin  cushion,  smoking  a  little  shiny 
pipe  that  smelled  most  horridly. 

"  Victor,  love,  you  know  Henry  Stuart,  don't 
you?" 

"  He  was  first  marshal,  my  freshman  year. 
All  the  fellows  were  crazy  about  him.  I  couldn't 
see  why.  Rotten  snob,  is  what  I  call  him  !" 

"  Yes,  dear  boy,  you  never  were  appreciated 
at  your  full  value  at  Harvard.  I'm  sure  it  wasn't 
my  fault,  Lili ;  for  I  gave  the  dear  boy  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  just  for  spending  money  — 
and  as  for  him  himself,  you  see  what  he  is  !  Well 
—  now,  thank  Heaven,  things  are  beginning  to 
go  splendidly,  and  soon  we  shall  all  be  launched 
in  the  world  where  we  belong ! " 


125 


CHAPTER    IX 

YES,  it  seemed  that  she  spoke  the  truth. 
Thanks  to  her  eager  scheming,  thanks  also 
to  the  chance  that  had  aided  her,  it  seemed  that 
Mrs.  Ethelbert  V.  Cobb  was  at  last  managing  to 
squirm  into  the  magic  circle  of  Society.  Among 
the  people  that  called  on  us  in  the  succeeding 
weeks,  and  the  invitations  that  poured  in  upon  us, 
I  could  not  of  course  tell  the  spurious  from  the 
pure  gold ;  but  it  appeared  that  the  Faubourg 
Saint-Germain  of  Bar  Harbor,  of  America  itself, 
was  at  last  opening  its  doors  to  Mrs.  Cobb. 

"  It's  the  Duchess  that  has  done  it !"  she  cried 
to  me  one  day ;  "  that  is,  the  Duchess  and  your 
pretty  looks.  Do  you  know  what  they  call  you, 
my  dear  ?  *  La  Belle  Scheherazade  '  —  that  was 
what  Colonel  Appleby  called  you  the  other  night. 
He  said  it  was  all  over  town."  She  looked  me 
up  and  down,  just  as  she  had  that  day  on  the 
steamer  when  I  came  into  her  cabin  in  my 
peignoir.  "  And,  to  be  sure,  it's  not  a  bad  name, 

126 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

to  hit  off  your  strange,  Oriental  style,  —  that 
Damascus  rose,  floating-down-the-Ganges  kind  of 
look  you  have,  along  with  the  true  Parisian  chic. 
Those  eyes  of  yours  —  the  depth  of  them,  and  the 
way  they're  cut  back  almost  to  your  ears  — 
they're  positively  devilish,  you  know  !  I  suppose 
you  know  there's  not  a  thing  in  trousers  on  this 
island  that's  not  positively  lashed  to  your  chariot 
wheels ;  in  short,  head  over  heels  in  love  with 
you,  —  old  and  young,  from  the  President  of  the 
Polo  Club  to  the  last  lobsterman  !  And  yet  your 
manners  are  so  perfect,  you  conquer  the  women, 
too  —  or  the  men  drag  them  along,  I  don't  know 
which.  Do  you  suppose  for  a  minute  that  Mrs. 
Vanhuysen,  for  instance,  would  be  so  nice  to  us 
if  her  nephew  weren't  smitten,  just  desperately 
smitten,  with  you  ?  By  the  way,  it  was  he  you 
took  for  Victor,  that  first  night  of  your  arrival, 
wasn't  it  ?  A  fortunate  chance,  since  it  got  you 
at  once  in  with  Miss  Carroll  and  Mrs.  Vanhuysen 
—  though  how  you  could  mistake  anybody  in 
the  world,  even  Mr.  Stuart,  for  my  beautiful 
bo-oy  —  " 

Yes,  I  have  seen  Mr.  Stuart  again  —  in  fact, 
every  day  !    The   morning  after  our  adventure 

127 


HER  WORD  OF   HONOR 

he  called  to  leave  his  card  for  Mrs.  Cobb  and  in- 
quire whether  I  had  taken  any  cold.  The  next 
day  he  came  in  the  afternoon  with  Miss  Carroll, 
and  with  Mrs.  Vanhuysen's  cards  of  invitation  to 
tea  the  next  day.  The  day  after  that,  he  arranged 
with  Mrs.  Cobb  to  find  us  on  the  tribune  at  the 
polo  meet ;  that  evening  at  a  dance  for  which 
Mrs.  Vanhuysen  procured  us  cards. 

It  was  strange,  between  these  appointed  meet- 
ings, what  a  furious  hurry  I  was  always  in  !  I 
ran  upstairs  and  down.  I  scolded  poor  old  Gene- 
vieve  because  she  lagged  in  brushing  my  hair  or 
lacing  my  corset.  At  table  I  ate  as  little  as  pos- 
sible, and  swallowed  it  very  quickly  —  and  on  the 
road  when  Victor  took  the  wheel  from  the  chauf- 
feur, I  flattered  him  with  a  guile  that  I  did  not 
know  myself  to  possess ;  I  told  him  that  he  drove 
better  than  any  mechanician,  and  begged  him  to 
go  faster  !  faster  !  faster  !  till  Mrs.  Cobb  screamed 
and  the  peasants  shouted  oaths  at  us  from  each 
side  of  the  road. 

Why  was  it,  this  wild  thirst  for  speed  ?  It 
seemed  to  me  that  something  was  burning  up 
my  blood,  and  that  I  must  go  very  quickly  in 
order  to  cool  it  —  or  that  something  was  always 

128 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

behind  me,  urging  me  on  with  whips.  And  always, 
always  one  image  in  my  eyes,  one  thought  in  my 
brain.  And  —  be  honest,  Lili !  —  the  moment 
Mr.  Stuart  had  said  good-by,  I  began  planning 
and  scheming  and  straining  ahead  toward  the 
moment  I  might  see  him  again.  And  it  seemed 
to  me  that  by  hurrying  very  quickly  I  should 
arrive  more  swiftly  at  that  desired  point  of  time. 
What  it  meant,  this  ceaseless,  irrational  rush  al- 
ways toward  the  same  thing,  I  did  not  even  stop 
to  think.  And  when  the  moment  finally  arrived, 
I  forgot  everything.  Oh,  the  joy  of  those  mo- 
ments when  I  felt  myself  live  !  Oh,  dear  and 
violent  and  beautiful  life  ! 

It  was  at  the  aeroplane  meet,  two  weeks  after 
our  arrival,  that  I  first  began  to  think. 

Bar  Harbor,  like  every  other  place  in  the  world, 
has  gone  wild  over  aeroplanes.  As  we  have  here 
too  many  mountains  and  too  much  sea,  with  all 
the  winds  that  blow,  they  have  made  the  aerodome 
twenty  miles  inland,  a  half  hour's  motoring. 
Victor,  though  he  has  his  machine  like  the  other 
young  men,  does  not  fly  as  yet.  His  mother 
screams  at  the  notion,  and  I  can  see  that  he  is  very 
glad  to  shelter  himself  behind  her  fears,  using  the 

129 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

delay  of  his  teacher  in  arriving  from  Paris  as  his 
excuse.  Henry  Stuart  flies,  however;  and  only 
last  month  I  hear  he  won  a  cup  for  a  flight  from 
New  York  to  Philadelphia. 

At  the  meet,  as  Mrs.  Cobb  and  I  descended  from 
our  automobile  with  Victor  (very  chic  to-day, 
nicely  shaven  and  in  a  beautiful  new  pale  gray 
suit)  behind  us,  Henry  came  immediately  to  meet 
us.  We  were  a  little  late,  and  the  monoplanes 
were  buzzing  over  our  heads.  But  Henry's  turn 
had  not  come  yet.  How  handsome,  how  alert 
he  looked  in  his  buttoned-up  scarlet  suit,  and 
with  his  leather  helmet  swinging  from  his  hand  ! 

"  Give  me  your  good  wishes,  Mademoiselle," 
he  said,  "  to  carry  into  the  air  with  me  !" 

I  hate  aeroplanes,  —  treacherous,  fragile  things 
to  carry  a  precious  life  up  into  that  hollow  gulf  of 
air  !  "  Take  my  good  wishes,  all  the  good  wishes 
of  my  heart,  up  into  the  sky  with  you.  They 
have  little  weight  indeed  to  impede  your  flight !" 

In  spite  of  my  joy  at  seeing  him  I  could  not 
keep  the  sadness  from  my  voice.  And  to  my  sur- 
prise he  also  became  suddenly  serious.  "  You 
think  your  wishes  have  little  weight  —  you  think 
so,  Mademoiselle  ?" 

130 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  Who  knows  ?"  I  answered. 

"  Try,"  he  said. 

In  spite  of  the  swarms  about  us,  of  Victor  at 
my  elbow,  of  even  the  air  crowded  above  our 
heads,  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  were  alone  among 
the  stars  as  his  eyes  met  mine.  And  his  voice, 
with  its  one  little  word,  went  echoing,  echoing  in 
my  ears. 

"  But  if  you  think  your  wishes  are  not  enough, 
Mademoiselle,  if  you'd  like  to  give  me  something 
more  material  for  a  mascot  — " 

"  Take  my  roses  !"  I  cried. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  answered,  with  a  smile, 
"  and,  like  the  fellow  in  the  romance,  I'll  carry 
them  higher  than  ever  roses  were  carried  before  !" 

"Ah!"  said  a  voice  behind  me,  —  a  quiet 
foreboding  sort  of  sound  that  was  taken  up  by 
other  voices  and  went  murmuring  away  over  the 
field.  I  looked  up.  A  Bleriot,  only  a  short  dis- 
tance from  us,  was  oscillating  strangely  in  the  air. 

"  That's  Martin.  Yesterday  he  almost  missed 
his  volplane !"  said  Henry,  excitedly.  And  in 
that  moment  the  monoplane  turned  completely 
over  and  came  crashing  to  the  ground.  It  was 
a  horrid,  sickening  sight.  I  covered  my  eyes  with 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

my  hand.     In  the  midst  of  the  roar  that    went 
up  from  the  crowd,  Henry  dashed  away. 

"Pooh!  a  little  tumble!"  said  Victor,  vaunt- 
ingly ;  but  I  noticed  that  his  pink  face  had  gone 
quite  pale  against  his  gray  coat,  and  his  hands 
shook.  "  Fifteen  feet,  no  more  !  What's  fifteen 
feet  ?  And  they're  making  a  fuss  over  the  chump 
as  though  he'd  fallen  fifteen  miles  !" 

"  Oh,  my  darling  boy  !  You'll  never  go  up  in 
one  of  those  horrid  machines,  I  can  tell  you 
that !"  cried  Mrs.  Cobb,  in  a  faint  voice. 

Victor's  relief  was  evident,  but  he  continued  to 
bluster.  "  Wait  till  Wettman  arrives  from  Paris 
and  gives  me  a  few  lessons,  I'll  show  them  a  trick 
or  two !" 

"There's  Henry's  machine!"  said  Mrs.  Van- 
huysen's  dry  little  voice  at  my  elbow. 

"Poor  Mrs.  Stuart!"  cried  Miss  Carroll. 
"  It's  lucky  she  isn't  here  to-day." 

"  It's  a  nervous  business,"  replied  Mrs.  Van- 
huysen,  uneasily. 

At  that  instant  the  crowd  below  the  tribune 
was  cleft,  and  we  saw  the  fallen  aviator  being 
carried  off  the  field  —  quite  white,  with  a  cloth 
tied  around  his  forehead. 

132 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"But  it's  nothing!"  cried  a  young  man,  who 
had  come  to  join  our  party.  "  A  few  bruises ; 
nothing  more." 

That  was  all  very  well ;  but  the  impression 
stayed.  And  in  spite  of  the  crowd  that  came 
as  usual  to  surround  Miss  Carroll  and  me,  I  sat 
silent  with  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  sky.  Above  us 
swooped  the  dragonfly  wings  of  Henry's  mono- 
plane, and  I  saw  my  pink  roses  fastened  to  his 
cap.  The  rattle  of  the  motor  was  loud  and  dry; 
but  only  for  an  instant,  fading  off  into  silence  as 
the  machine  climbed  up  into  the  sky. 

"I  say,  what  a  corking  flight!"  "Ah,  he 
knows  his  business,  that  chap !"  Around  me 
the  voices  swelled  in  enthusiasm.  But  I  couldn't 
bear  to  look  any  more ;  for  fear  of  seeing  that 
aeroplane  turn  turtle  as  the  other  one  had  done, 
and  come  crashing  down  to  the  earth. 

It  did  not,  however.  Henry  made  a  magnifi- 
cent flight  —  a  record  flight,  for  altitude.  And 
all  the  time  my  heart  hammered  against  my  ribs, 
as  though  it  would  beat  my  very  body  open. 
Ah  !  until  that  moment  I  had  not  known  how  dear 
he  was  to  me  —  how  bitterly,  how  unspeakably, 
dear ! 

133 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Of  course  it  was  none  of  my  business,  —  I  was 
a  stranger  to  Henry  Stuart;  the  promised  wife, 
r,  of  another  man,  —  but  when  he  finally 
back,  pale,  red-eyed,  and  smiling,  to  restore 
my  roses  to  me,  I  could  not  thank  him:  I  had 
«  •Bribing  else  to  say. 

"  ^^**^"*-,  yon  said  a  little  while  ago  that  my 
wishes  bad  weight  with  yon  ?" 
x  ck,     nc  *•*•"" **    r 

"And  you  told  me  to  try?" 

"lead." 

"Then,  MWMCJPP,  don't  fly  again.  Promise 
me  yi^i  ii  never*  **y  ayjm  \ 

The  crowd,  acclaiming  the  popular  aviator's 
,  suigcd  around  us.    Every  instant,  Henry's 
claimed.    Then,  smiling,  he  turned 
back  to  me:  — 

"Mademoiselle,  your  roses!  They  wffl  tefl 
yon  how  sweet  it  is,  that  upper  air !" 

*  Yes ;  but  they  are  dead,  the  petals  are  shriv- 
eled and  curled.  No,  it's  a  sin,  we  were  never 
meant  to  go  so  high !  Piunme  me,  promise  me !" 

"But  why?" 

"Because  I  don't  want  yon  to  —  because  I 
can't  bear  it!  That's  why!  Promise  me!" 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Never  in  017  whole  fife  did  I  fed  such  exche- 
men  t,  such  concentration  of  my  •hulc.  wOl  power 
on  a  single  vital  point.  My  eyes  looked  into 
Henry's.  What  he  read  there  I  do  not  know. 
But  he  smiled  with  a  strange  expression,  so  much 
the  reflection  of  what  I  felt  that  I  seemed  to  be 
looking  into  a  mirror. 

"  Since  you  ask  it,  I  promise,**  he  said. 
"  Nerer  again  i" 

The  next  moment  his  tm"S*mA*  had  *»•••*•!  him 
off,  and  Mrs.  Cobb  was  claiming  my  attention  to 
tell  me  that  Victor,  poor  boy,  was  fcefing  neg- 
lected. Ah,  Victor!  That  was  what  I  had 
foigoUen.  AD  the  fife  seemed  to  die  down  oat 
of  me,  and  the  blood  stopped  pulsing  in  my 
head.  After  all,  what  had  I  been 


about?  Why  had  I  asked  such  a  favor,  ike 
renunciation  of  his  iliaifM  amMrirwi,  of  this 
American  whom  I  hardly  knew;  and  why  had  he 
granted  it  to  me  ? 

"Mr  dear  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Cobb  that  evening, 
while  her  keen  eyes  ran  through  and  through  me, 
tt  though  nothing  could  be  more  flattering  to  me 
as  weU  as  to  you,  than  the  immense  hit  yov're 
here,  and  in  the  very  first  set,  too,  still, 
135 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  must  ask  you,  when  we're  all  out  together,  to 
take  a  little  more  notice  of  my  darling  boy.  Mr. 
Stuart,  now  —  of  course  it's  evident  he's  wildly 
in  love  with  you,  like  every  other  man  on  this 
island  —  you  naughty  little  fascinating  Carmen, 
you  !  But  —  well,  don't  forget  the  tenth  of 
August.  A  word  to  the  wise  —  mum !  The 
wedding  invitations  have  arrived  from  New  York, 
dear.  Would  you  like  to  see  them  ?" 

Of  course,  I  had  to  say  yes.  So  with  heavy 
feet  I  followed  her  to  the  library  where  the  white 
paper  boxes  were  piled  nearly  to  the  ceiling. 
They  were  very  prettily  engraved,  I  thought. 
They  were  in  Aunt  Elizabeth's  name  for  the 
church,  in  Mrs.  Cobb's  for  the  breakfast  to  fol- 
low. The  next  day  the  secretaries  began  the 
work  of  addressing  them  and  writing  in  the 
names.  When  I  feel  my  thoughts  wandering 
too  much,  I  can  always  come  to  this  comfort- 
able shaded  room  where  the  pens  scratch,  and 
the  small  boy  with  the  little  sponge  wets  the 
envelope  and  sticks  them.  It  is  a  sight  that 
convinces  me. 

"This,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  is  success  !"  Yes, 
I  had  attained  success.  What  would  have  been 

136 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

my  delight  if  two  months  ago  at  Brent  or  six 
weeks  ago  in  the  despairing  days  of  my  voyage, 
I  had  had  a  vision  of  this  triumph,  this  security, 
this  petted  luxury,  this  swiftly  attained  goal  of  a 
millionaire  husband  ?  I  had  grasped  my  dreams 
and  more.  But  —  ah  !  why  had  Destiny,  in  this 
fulfilling  of  all  my  ancient  prayers,  given  me  the 
sudden  glimpse  of  another  felicity  that  left  my 
success  dead  and  bitter  in  my  hands,  like  withered 
herbs  ? 

I  suppose  because1  I  had  deserved  nothing 
better.  I  realized  it  now,  how  wrongly  I  had 
done,  how  far  I  had  fallen  since  the  day  when  I 
knelt  and  prayed  to  papa's  picture  for  help  to 
find  the  lady  he  had  loved.  When  I  had  been 
offered  something  more  tangible,  "  money,  much 
money,"  I  had  given  up  the  search  very  easily. 
Yes,  I  must  have  done  wrong,  or  I  could  not  be 
in  such  perplexity,  in  such  misery,  as  at  this 
moment.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  whatever  I  do 
now,  I  feel  that  it  is  wrong. 

Shall  I  turn  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  ?  Shall 
I  do  what  I  want  to  do  or  what  I  ought  to  do  ? 
But  what  ought  I  to  do  ?  Since  Mrs.  Cobb's 
warning  words  called  me  suddenly  to  myself,  I 

137 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

have  avoided  Mr.  Stuart.  But  his  eyes  —  how 
grim  and  sad  they  are  when  they  meet  mine  ! 
And  Miss  Carroll,  laughing,  teases  me  for  a 
"little  French  coquette!"  Ah,  that  —  never, 
never  !  But  that  is  what  I  appear  to  him,  and  I 
can  see  that  the  idea  makes  him  suffer.  Poor, 
poor  Henry !  Does  he  feel  perhaps  half  or  a 
quarter  as  badly  as  I  do  myself  ?  And  the  worst 
of  it  is,  he  has  kept  his  word  to  me.  And  I,  what 
have  I  given  him  in  exchange  ? 

It  was  a  two  days'  wonder,  Henry  Stuart's 
desertion  of  aviation,  just  after  he  had  won  his 
great  triumph.  He  refused  to  keep  his  other 
engagements  :  he  had  had  enough,  he  said.  The 
aeroplane  the  other  day  was  brought  here  from 
the  aerodome  and  stored  in  the  garage  above  their 
cottage.  Even  if  I  didn't  think  he  felt  a  little  bit 
badly  about  me,  I'd  know  how  he  feels  about 
losing  the  sport  that's  the  passion  of  his  life.  I 
have,  in  fact,  robbed  him  of  everything,  even 
his  good  opinion  of  me. 

But,  as  for  myself,  I  am  keeping  my  word,  too. 
But  I  have  always  my  two  roses,  withered  too 
soon  because  they  flew  too  high. 

But  —  oh,  Lili,  have  you  done  any  better  your- 
138 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

self,  you  who  call  yourself  intelligent,  and  pique 
yourself  on  your  reasonable  manner  of  looking  at 
life  ?  Could  any  poor  cabbage  in  the  garden 
have  bungled  its  affairs  half  so  miserably  as 
you  ? 


139 


CHAPTER  X 

BUT,  just  the  same,  Henry  broke  his  word  to 
me.      At  least  I  think  so  —  that  is,  if  it's 
not  all  a  dream,  what  happened  to  me  to-day. 

Ah,  what  a  day  ! 

The  first  marvel  is  evidently  that  there  is  any 
Lili  here  at  all,  to  tell  what  happened  or  to  bewail 
it.  Bewail  it,  yes,  for  in  spite  of  all  the  philosophy 
in  the  world,  what  is  so  cruel  as  to  receive  from 
Destiny  all  we  have  asked  or  dreamed  —  receive 
it,  that  is,  at  the  instant  when  our  hands  are 
tied  and  we  cannot  accept  it  ? 

But  attention,  my  poor  Lili !  Begin  at  the  begin- 
ning. 

At  the  beginning,  evidently,  it  was  all  Victor's 
fault.  He  took  me  out  sailing  in  his  horrid  little 
boat.  And,  as  though  that  weren't  enough  for 
me  who  hate  the  sea  and  am  always  quite  ill  and 
miserable  on  the  water,  he  had  to  go  and  tip  the 
boat  over  —  ugh  !  —  and  fling  me  out  into  the 
water,  just  where  it  is  deepest  and  roughest  and 
most  icy  cold. 

140 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

So  unnecessary,  too,  that  was  the  most  aggra- 
vating part  of  it,  for  the  wind  wasn't  so  very  high, 
and  Victor  is  a  good  sailor  —  or  ought  to  be ; 
for  he  is  never  out  of  his  boat.  But  as  we  slipped 
by  under  the  crag  where  Mrs.  Vanhuysen's  house 
is  built,  we  saw  Henry  sitting  there  quite  melan- 
choly in  front  of  the  garage,  and  the  wings  of  his 
useless  Bleriot  glistening  in  the  sunlight  through 
the  open  door.  My  heart  gave  a  twist  as  though 
some  one  were  pinching  it.  And  I  wondered  if 
he  had  received  his  invitation  for  my  marriage. 
They  had  been  sent  to  the  post-office,  a  whole 
automobile  full,  the  night  before.  But  just  the 
same  he  was  keeping  his  word  to  me  ! 

"  There's  a  chap  that's  good  and  stuck  on  him- 
self," said  my  fiance,  suddenly.  "  Thinks  he's 
the  only  man  on  the  island  that  can  stroke  a  crew 
or  sail  a  boat.  I'll  show  him  there  are  others  !" 
And  from  that  moment  Victor  began  to  show  off. 

In  any  case,  sailing  is  an  amusement  sufficiently 
annoying  when  the  boat  tips  over  and  your 
stomach  rises  up  and  rubs  against  your  throat. 
But  when,  instead  of  pushing  the  rudder  over 
and  yielding  to  the  wind,  the  person  who  steers 
the  boat  wants  to  show  how  courageous  he  is, 

141 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

and  holds  his  long  stick  quite  immovable  when 
the  gusts  come,  and  the  boat  tips  over  —  and 
over  —  and  over  —  till  the  water  rises  up  in  a 
foamy  green  streak  over  the  lower  rail  and  you 
have  to  clutch  the  upper  rail  like  a  fly,  to  keep 
from  falling  off  — 

"Oh,  Victor!"  I  cried  again  and  again. 
"  Please  be  careful !  Oh,  please  —  please  !" 

But  he  sat  quite  immovable  at  the  stern,  with 
his  horrid  little  pipe,  that  smells  so  unpleasantly, 
clutched  between  his  teeth.  All  around  us  the 
harbor  was  quite  empty,  as  every  one  had  gone 
out  to  follow  a  yacht  race.  That  was  where  we 
were  going,  too,  if  only  we  could  get  out  of  the 
harbor.  But  the  wind  seemed  to  be  straight 
ahead,  and  we  went  back  and  forth,  back  and 
forth,  in  a  helpless  kind  of  way.  And  every  now 
and  then  a  gust  of  wind  falling  down  out  of  the 
mountains  seemed  to  hit  us  like  a  cannon  ball. 

"  He'll  see,  the  snob  !"  said  Victor,  as  the  boat 
trembled  and  rolled  her  rail  under  water.  "  He'll 
see!" 

Yes  ;  but  what  did  he  see  ?  The  boat,  instead 
of  coming  back  again,  went  on  going  over  —  over. 
The  sail  dragged  in  the  water.  And  all  I  remem- 

142 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

her  the  instant  I  seemed  to  be  falling  off  a  roof, 
was  how  ridiculous  Victor's  mouth  looked,  wide 
open  to  shout,  and  the  little,  black,  shiny  pipe 
falling  out  of  it. 

The  salt  water  caught  my  throat  and  strangled 
me.  It  was  cold  —  oh,  cold  like  the  inside  of  a 
vault !  For  the  moment  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
had  eased  to  exist.  Down  —  down  I  went  in  the 
icy  cold.  Then  my  hand  caught  something.  I 
can't  swim,  of  course ;  but  at  least  I  can  struggle 
and  kick  !  The  next  moment  my  head  came  up 
out  of  water,  and  I  found  myself  clinging  to  the 
edge  of  the  boat,  which  lay  heaving  under  the 
water,  like  the  pictures  of  a  whale  in  the  geogra- 
phies. On  top  rode  Victor,  with  his  wet,  yellow 
hair  plastered  over  his  forehead  and  his  mouth 
opened,  shouting.  So  I  caught  my  breath,  gasp- 
ing and  choking  in  the  salt  water. 

"Victor!"  I  cried.  "Help!  Help!  Victor!" 
Now  came  a  bad  moment  in  my  life ;  for  sud- 
denly, as  eyes  and  reason  returned,  I  became 
aware  of  the  fact  that  from  this  source  no  help 
was  coming  to  me.  Not  that  good  will  lacked, 
poor  Victor  !  For  two  or  three  times  he  leaned 
down  from  his  slippery  perch  and  made  ineffectual 

143 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

passes  at  me  with  his  hand.  But  he  was  fright- 
ened —  M on  Dieu  !  how  frightened  he  was  !  And 
every  time  he  leaned  down  toward  me,  with  his 
eyes  still  fixed  on  the  distant  shore,  somehow  his 
grasp  just  missed  me  and  he  had  to  straighten  up 
and  clutch  the  bottom  of  the  boat  to  keep  from 
sliding  off  himself.  However,  he  managed  to  pass 
me  a  loop  of  rope  that  came  winding  through  the 
water  from  the  sail,  and  with  this  and  some  words 
of  encouragement  he  seemed  to  feel  that  his  duty 
was  done. 

"  Here,  Lili,  hold  on  tight  to  this  rope.  And 
don't  be  scared.  Above  all,  don't  be  scared ! 
I'll  save  you,  Lili !  I'll  shout !" 

So  he  continued  to  shout,  with  his  mouth  open 
like  a  cave,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  shore.  As  for 
me,  I  seized  the  horrid  little  tangle  of  rope  and 
tried  to  climb  up  myself  on  the  overturned  hull 
where  he  rode  secure;  but  it  was  too  slippery. 
I  had  nothing  to  hold  on  by,  so  I  fell  back  every 
time  —  and  each  time  that  the  icy  water  rode 
above  my  head,  I  felt  my  strength  go,  and  then  go 
some  more.  At  intervals,  as  my  head  rose  above 
a  wave,  I  caught  sight  of  the  shore,  so  far  away, 
and  the  harbor,  with  all  its  masts  and  funnels ; 

144 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

but  never  a  pair  of  oars  coming  toward  us.  And, 
even  if  a  boat  should  come  to  us  now,  I  knew  that 
it  would  be  too  late ;  for  I  felt  myself  very  weak 
and  very  cold.  If  I  could  have  thought  of  a 
prayer,  I  should  have  said  it.  I  tried ;  but  none 
came.  And  quite  clearly  above  the  waves  I 
heard  my  own  voice  saying :  "  It  is  a  pity,  after 
all,  that  I  left  Brent." 

And  all  the  time  Victor  never  stopped  shout- 
ing. Though  I  don't  want  to  say  anything 
against  anybody,  least  of  all  my  fiance,  still,  I 
really  can't  help  feeling  that  he  acted  rather  like 
a  pig. 

Suddenly,  as  we  rose  up  floundering  on  the 
crest  of  a  wave,  and  I  just  found  strength  enough 
to  raise  my  eyes,  I  saw  the  flash  of  a  pair  of  oars. 
But  —  ah,  so  far  away  !  My  hands  were  numb ; 
never,  never  could  I  hold  on  till  that  boat  came. 
Then,  at  the  same  instant,  over  the  shore  above 
the  boat,  I  saw  something  shoot  up  into  the  sky. 

Ah  !  in  a  warm  shock  that  was  like  life  itself, 
I  realized  what  was  happening.  Henry  was  com- 
ing for  me  in  his  aeroplane  ! 

I  drew  one  long  breath  —  I  had  barely  time,  as 
the  great  dragon  fly  came  sweeping  toward  me  on 

145 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

the  wind.  The  next  instant  I  saw  Henry  stand- 
ing up  on  the  little  seat ;  and  without  any  volplane 
or  anything  else,  the  machine  turned  turtle  and 
dived  down  into  the  waves,  only  a  little  way  from 
us. 

How  my  fingers  clutched  it,  the  cold,  slippery 
edge  of  the  boat !  Slowly  I  began  to  count.  If 
before  I  had  counted  twenty  Henry  had  not  come 
up  out  of  the  sea,  I  resolved  to  let  go  and  go  down 
and  join  him.  Until  that  moment  I  had  not 
realized  what  it  means  when  we  say  a  person  is 
more  than  life  to  us. 

"  Sixteen  —  seventeen — "  After  all,  there  was 
comfort  in  the  thought  that  down  in  that  clear 
green  water  I  should  be  with  him  at  last,  with 
no  Victor  to  bother  me,  or  silly  nonsense  about 
Social  Position  and  so  on.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden, 
not  more  than  three  or  four  meters  away,  I  saw 
Henry  swimming  toward  me.  The  next  instant, 
just  because  they  hadn't  the  strength  to  hold  on 
any  more,  my  fingers  doubled  up  and  slipped 
away.  Down  I  went ;  all  around  me  it  was 
green,  and  I  said  to  myself :  "  What  a  pity  !  If 
I  could  only  have  held  on  an  instant  longer  !" 
Then  an  arm  came  round  me  —  I  felt  the  air  in 

146 


1 


i 

5 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

my  nostrils  again.  And,  opening  my  eyes,  I 
saw  Henry's  face  close  to  mine. 

Now  see  how  strange  they  are,  these  Ameri- 
cans !  Here  was  a  man  who  I  knew  loved  me,  and 
who  had  just  risked  his  life  to  save  mine.  Yet 
he  didn't  weep,  or  kiss  me,  or  cry  out.  No,  he 
merely  said,  in  the  most  collected  way  in  the 
world :  — 

"  Buck  up,  darling !  There's  a  boat  com- 
ing!" But  I  must  own  there  was  a  little  break 
in  his  voice  as  his  eyes  looked  into  mine  and  he 
added,  "Thank  God!" 

On  the  hull  above  us  Victor  went  on  shouting 
and  gesticulating  wildly  to  the  approaching  boat. 
He  never  seemed  to  notice  the  aeroplane  or  Henry's 
arrival  any  more  than  he  had  noticed  me.  He 
just  kept  on  shouting,  "  Help  !  help  !  " 

Above  the  noise  of  the  water,  I  heard  Henry's 
voice  in  my  ear :  "  I  broke  my  word  to  you, 
darling.  Do  you  forgive  me  ?" 

But  I  could  only  gasp :  "  Your  poor  Bleriot ! 
Oh,  what  a  pity!  Your  poor  Bleriot!"  It  was 
ridiculous ;  the  tears  were  pouring  down  my  face, 
the  salt  water  was  splashing  into  my  mouth.  I 
found  myself  laughing  and  crying  in  the  most 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

absurd  way.  Then,  through  the  coldness,  the 
rocking,  and  the  wet,  hurrying  blindness,  all  of  a 
sudden  something  happened  —  something  I  have 
speculated  about  often  enough.  But  oh,  the 
reality,  how  different  it  was  ! 

Henry  kissed  me  !  His  lips,  through  the  icy 
wetness  of  the  sea  water,  burned  me  like  the 
touch  of  melted  wax ;  and  the  heat  ran  through 
me  in  the  strangest  way.  I  felt  myself  all  warm 
and  quivery,  not  cold  any  more.  Oh,  it  was 
lovely,  lovely,  when  Henry  kissed  me  ! 

"  Precious,"  he  said,  "  precious  little  child  ! 
I  love  you  —  oh,  how  I  love  you  !" 

It  was  strange  and  sweet,  too,  to  see  him  so 
excited.  Yes,  for  this  time  at  least,  all  his 
wonderful  self-command  was  gone.  He  just  re- 
peated the  same  words  over  and  over  again,  and 
the  arm  he  held  me  with  gripped  me  so  tightly 
that  I  almost  lost  the  little  breath  that  the  salt 
water  had  left  me.  But  I  didn't  need  to  breathe, 
any  more  than  I  needed  to  think.  My  head  be- 
gan to  whirl,  I  felt  myself  falling,  falling  through 
a  delicious  kind  of  paradise,  with  Victor  and  all 
the  miserable  bothers  of  life  forgotten  forever, 
and  Henry's  cheek  warm  and  wet  against  mine. 

148 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Then  all  of  a  sudden  came  a  big  wave  that  washed 
completely  over  the  two  of  us,  and  I  felt  myself 
drowning.  I  clutched  Henry  with  all  my  force 
—  but  my  poor  force,  what  was  it,  after  all  the 
icy  water  and  all  the  terrors  ?  I  had  not  even  the 
strength  to  say  good-by.  The  next  minute  I 
was  gone. 

Where  ?  Where  was  Lili  in  that  interval,  when 
the  light  went  out  and  all  was  silent  ?  If  she 
ever  knew,  most  certainly  she  had  forgotten 
before  she  came  back.  And  —  oh,  she  came  back 
unwillingly  ! 

A  knife  through  my  lungs,  a  dreadful  weight 
on  my  chest,  hands  that  rubbed  and  rolled  and 
teased  me  as  though  for  pure  spite :  that  was  the 
first  thing  I  knew.  I  tried  to  tell  them  to  leave 
me  alone;  but  my  voice  wouldn't  come.  After 
all,  what  was  the  use  of  resisting  ?  So  I  just 
resigned  myself,  while  the  hands  went  on  torment- 
ing me  —  oh,  for  infinite  hours,  endlessly  !  Then 
gradually,  uncertainly,  I  began  to  feel  happy. 
The  pains  left  me,  my  breath  began  to  come  so 
softly  it  was  a  pleasure  to  draw  it.  I  tried  to 
open  my  eyes ;  but  the  lids  were  very  heavy, 
and  it  really  didn't  seem  to  be  worth  so  much 

149 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

trouble.  So  I  lay  in  a  kind  of  torpor,  just  think- 
ing how  lovely  and  warm  the  blankets  were.  Then 
I  heard  voices,  all  blurred  and  distant.  It  didn't 
seem  worth  while  taking  the  trouble  to  listen ; 
but  just  the  same  it  seemed  quite  natural  to  hear 
again  the  last  voice  I  had  heard  before  going  away. 

Henry  was  saying :  "  What  did  the  doctor 
say  ?" 

A  lady's  voice  answered  him  —  such  a  sweet 
voice,  I  wanted  to  open  my  eyes  and  look  at  her : 
"  Quite  out  of  danger.  A  little  sleep  is  all  that's 
needed.  And  Mr.  Cobb  — " 

Henry's  voice  interrupted,  so  violent  I  was  glad 
to  keep  my  eyes  shut.  "  Damn  the  brute  !  He's 
all  right ;  don't  think  I  was  worrying  about  him  !" 
Then  his  voice  changed.  He  whispered  so  softly 
that  I  could  barely  hear  him  :  "  How  soundly  she 
sleeps  !  Look,  mother,  did  you  ever  in  your  life 
see  anything  so  perfectly  beautiful  ?" 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment;  then  I  heard 
the  lady's  voice,  in  the  barest  breath :  "  My 
poor  boy  !" 


150 


CHAPTER  XI 

IT  was  some  hours  later,  when  I  was  sitting 
up  in  bed  and  drinking  some  nice  hot  choco- 
late, that  I  heard  the  lady's  voice  again.  But 
this  time  I  saw  her,  too,  rather  short  and  stout, 
but  with  a  profile  like  a  statue  and  the  most  beau- 
tifully undulated  white  hair.  She  spoke  to  me 
so  kindly  about  the  wild  risk  her  son  had  taken 
and  how  terrified  she  had  been ;  but  said  that  now 
she  was  glad  and  proud  of  him,  especially  after 
she  had  seen  me.  Then  she  smiled  at  me,  and 
suddenly  under  her  calm  grace  of  manner  I  noticed 
the  ripple  of  concealed  excitement. 

"  So  it  was  not  only  a  very  charming  young 
lady,  but  a  very  famous  one,  that  my  boy  had  the 
honor  of  rescuing,"  she  said.  "  For  the  last 
month  I  believe  the  papers  have  talked  of  little 
else  but  Mademoiselle  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny." 

She  smiled  again  at  me.  And  for  the  first  time 
I  realized  that  Mrs.  Cobb's  campaign  of  news- 
paper publicity,  which  seemed  so  vulgar  and 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

bizarre  to  my  European  ideas,  might  seem  equally 
so  to  the  other  Americans  —  Americans,  that  is, 
like  Mrs.  Stuart.  I  felt  myself  turning  crimson, 
but  I  could  not  deny  my  hostess  and  future  mother- 
in-law  by  apologizing  for  her,  so  I  remained 
silent. 

"  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  knowing  your 
aunt,  the  Duchess  of  Porthaven,"  went  on  Mrs. 
Stuart.  "  It  is,  in  fact,  many  years  since  I 
crossed  the  Atlantic.  But  on  the  French  side  of 
your  family — " 

She  stretched  out  a  plump  white  hand,  and  on 
the  counterpane  before  me  fell  a  little  glittering 
heap.  "  When  the  maid  undressed  you,  I  took 
charge  of  your  jewelry,"  she  said.  "  Look,  my 
dear,  is  it  all  there?" 

Sure  enough,  there  were  the  pearl  hoops,  the 
ruby  clusters  that  Mrs.  Cobb  had  bestowed  upon 
me,  together  with  the  great  diamond  solitaire, 
so  enormous  that  I  cannot  wear  a  glove  over  it, 
that  Victor  last  week  had  pushed  upon  my 
finger.  Mechanically,  with  my  eyes  still  on  the 
wide-open  blue  ones  before  me,  I  began  slipping 
on  my  rings  again.  But  the  rings  —  bah  !  what 
did  they  matter,  beside  the  dear,  old-fashioned 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

locket  of  pale  gold,  with  my  miniature  inside, 
that  Mrs.  Stuart  laid  down  beside  them  ? 

"  The  miniatures  are  quite  uninjured,"  she  said. 
"  You  must  excuse  me  for  looking ;  but  you  see 
I  was  afraid  that  the  water  might  have  reached 
them,  and  perhaps  they  were  requiring  imme- 
diate attention  in  order  to  save  them — "  Then, 
with  that  note  of  excitement  rising  suddenly 
high:  — 

"  You  must  excuse  such  a  question,  Mademoi- 
selle," she  said,  "  but  will  you  tell  me  —  where 
did  you  get  that  locket  ? " 

I  stared  at  her.  But  there  was  something  in 
her  face  that  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  answer 
anything  but  the  truth.  "  I  took  it  from  my 
father's  neck  after  he  was  dead,"  I  said. 

She  carried  her  hand  to  her  throat.  "  Ah  !" 
she  said.  "Ah!"  Then  she  added,  as  though 
with  difficulty :  "  So  your  father  was  —  in 
short,  you're  the  daughter  of  Etienne  de  Vau- 
quieres  ?" 

I  nodded,  half  stupefied  with  the  new  idea 
that  ran  through  my  aching  head.  And  sud- 
denly the  dignified  lady  before  me  slipped  down 
on  her  knees  beside  my  bed.  Her  face  thus 

153 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

brought  on  a  level  with  mine  seemed  a  new  one, 
lit  like  a  lamp  from  within,  young  and  wild  and 
beautiful  under  its  crown  of  white  hair. 

"  Look  at  me  !"  she  cried.  "  Have  I  changed 
so  much  ?" 

Oh  !  I  knew  her,  I  knew  her  then.  I  began 
to  laugh  and  to  cry  all  together.  "  Oh,  Mon 
Dieu!"  I  gasped.  "You're  Harriet!" 

Her  face  began  to  twitch ;  but  she  answered 
me  quite  collectedly.  "  Harriet  Wilson  —  that 
was  my  name :  Harriet  Stuart  now.  And  when 
I  was  a  young  girl  I  was  engaged  to  your  dear 
papa.  Then  came  that  dreadful  war.  We  left 
France :  my  father  objected  to  my  marrying  a 
Frenchman.  We  heard  the  report  of  his  death. 
Oh,  tell  me!"  she  cried  ardently.  "Did  he 
blame  me  very  much,  do  you  think  that  he  ever, 
ever  forgave  me?" 

"  I'm  sure  he  did,"  I  answered ;  "  for  he  saved 
all  your  letters  —  I  have  them  here,  every  one, 
in  my  trunk !  And  your  name  was  the  last,  the 
very  last,  that  we  heard  him  say  just  before  he 
died." 

The  tears  came  up  into  her  eyes.  "  And  you're 
his  daughter!"  she  said.  "Ah!  how  strange 

154 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

life  is  !  A  turn  of  the  wheel,  and  I  lose  Etienne. 
Another  turn  of  the  wheel,  and  his  daughter  is 
brought  here  to  my  house,  washed  up  out  of  the 

r 

sea  like  a  changeling.  Etienne's  daughter,  after 
forty  years.  And  you,  no  more  than  a  child. 
Ah  !  he  waited !  Ah  !  he  didn't  forget  so  easily 
as  I !" 

Her  head  went  down  on  the  bed,  and  she  began 
to  cry,  —  long,  strangling  sobs  that  shook  the  bed 
and  hurt  me  where  I  was  sore.  But  I  didn't  care. 

Ah,  poor  Harriet !  How  very,  very  much  she 
must  have  loved  papa  —  almost  as  much  as  I 
loved  him  —  to  remember  him  all  these  years, 
and  weep  for  him  now  with  this  wild  energy  of 
grief  as  though  she  had  lost  him  yesterday.  But 
if  she  loved  him  so  much,  why  did  she  marry  Mr. 
Stuart  ?  Then  I  thought  of  Henry,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  had  a  cramp  in  my  heart.  Need  I 
wonder  at  anything,  I,  who  am  going  to  marry 
Victor  Cobb  ? 

Henry's  mother !  This  was  Henry's  mother, 
and  she  was  also  Harriet  that  my  papa  loved. 
It  would  have  been  too  delicate  a  coincidence  to 
be  believed  in,  too  apt  and  charming  to  have 
happened  out  of  a  romance,  would  it  not,  if  that 

155 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

had  been  all  there  was  to  it  ?  But  it  was  not  all. 
Stupidly  I  gazed  at  the  great  white  solitaire  on 
my  limp  brown  hand.  Though  my  head  was 
whirling,  I  realized  what  that  meant.  I  am  going 
to  marry  Victor  Cobb  ! 

But  there  was  time  to  think  about  that  later. 
Mrs.  Stuart  began  to  ask  me  about  papa,  and  to 
talk  of  him  —  oh,  how  reverently,  how  tenderly  ! 
After  all  the  abuse  I  had  heard  of  my  dear  papa 
among  my  relatives  at  Brent  and  the  complete 
silence  of  the  strangers  that  I  lived  with  now, 
it  seemed  almost  like  having  him  back  again,  to 
hear  little  anecdotes  about  his  youth,  and  how 
important  he  was  at  the  Court  of  Napoleon  III, 
and  a  duel  he  once  fought,  and  all  the  ladies  that 
were  in  love  with  him.  So  in  return  I  told  her 
all  about  his  last  years,  when  I  knew  him ;  and 
all  his  losses  and  troubles  and  how  bravely  he 
bore  them,  and  her  letters  that  I  had  saved  and 
brought  with  me  —  oh,  everything  !  Everything, 
that  is,  except  one  thing  that  I  could  understand, 
being  a  woman,  too.  She  never  spoke  of  poor 
dear  mamma,  except  to  inquire  whether  I  looked 
like  her.  "  For  you  don't  look  at  all  like  your 
papa,"  she  said,  and  sighed. 

156 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  No,"  I  cried,  "  he  was  so  handsome  and 
distinguished,  my  dear  papa.  And  I,  as  you  see, 
Madame  —  *  black  as  a  mole' !"  Ah,  that  horrid 
little  phrase,  even  now  it  hurt  and  stung ! 

But  Mrs.  Stuart  shook  her  head  with  a  smile. 
"  All  the  better,"  she  said :  "  blondes  are  too 
common.  If  you  knew  how  tired  one  gets  of 
being  a  blonde,  even  before  one's  hair  turns  white  ! 
But  you,  with  that  gorgeous  Eastern  coloring, 
and  those  eyes  !  But  I  could  have  wished,  you 
see,  that  you  had  looked  like  your  papa.  It 
would  —  it  would  have  brought  my  young  days 
back  to  me."  Suddenly  she  leaned  over  my  bed, 
and  that  hot  look  of  youth  came  up  again  into  her 
skin  and  eyes.  "  I  was  cheated  !"  she  whispered 
passionately.  "  You  ought  to  have  been  my 
daughter !" 

I  did  not  mean  to  think  of  myself ;  but,  just  the 
same,  came  up  in  my  mind  a  sudden  thought 
that  burned  me  like  —  like  Henry's  lips,  so  short 
a  time  ago.  I  felt  the  blood  in  my  face,  and  I 
knew  his  mother's  keen  eyes  had  read  my  thought. 
The  youthful  fire  died  down  out  of  her  face,  I 
could  see  that  the  thought  of  herself  had  given 
way  to  the  thought  of  her  son,  and  her  eyes  looked 

157 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

at  me  with  a  smiling  kindness  that  was  like  a  bene- 
diction. 

"  Who  knows  ?"  she  said.  "  After  all,  there  are 
more  ways  than  one  for  you  to  be  my  daughter  !" 

I  looked  at  her.  The  same  words  that  Mrs. 
Cobb  had  said  to  me  two  months  ago !  Then 
I  began  to  laugh.  Since  Destiny  had  taken  it 
into  her  head  to  play  me  so  exquisite  a  joke, 
might  I  not  just  as  well  be  chic,  and  laugh  back 
again  ? 

"  Didn't  you  get  Mrs.  Cobb's  cards  ?"  I  asked, 
still  laughing.  "  I  know  she  sent  them  to  you. 
I  am  to  be  married  to  her  son  Victor,  two  weeks 
from  to-day." 

But  it  was  no  use  —  I  began  to  cry.  Then  the 
doctor  came  in  and  scolded  her  —  her,  the  mag- 
nificent Mrs.  Stuart  —  for  agitating  his  patient. 
So  I  was  left  alone,  with  poor  old  Genevieve, 
who  had  been  hurriedly  sent  for,  telling  over  her 
beads  at  the  foot  of  my  bed.  As  for  me,  I  turned 
my  solitaire  round  and  round  on  my  finger  and 
watched  the  shadows  on  the  ceiling  till  I  fell 
asleep. 


158 


CHAPTER  XII 

SINCE  long  ago,  when  papa  was  alive,  these 
two  days  have  been  the  happiest  of  my  life. 

The  doctor  (dear  man  !)  declared  that  I  must 
not  be  moved.  So  here  I  stay,  content  like  a 
lost  spirit  who,  falling  through  space,  finds  foot- 
hold for  a  couple  of  days  on  a  star. 

I  love  this  house !  There  is  no  gilding,  or 
velvet,  or  embroidered  footmen ;  but  all  is  so 
cool  and  light  and  flowery;  the  sea  wind  blowing 
through  seems  quite  in  place,  and  you  feel  that 
it's  really  summer.  Then  there  is  no  fuss  about 
calling,  or  reception  days,  or  anybody's  Social 
Position.  Even  Mrs.  Vanhuysen,  though  she 
lacks  the  sweet  grace  of  her  sister-in-law,  is  quite 
simple  in  her  manner.  She  comes  into  my  room 
every  day  to  make  me  a  formal  little  call;  and 
Miss  Carroll,  too,  makes  me  frequent  little  visits, 
always  with  such  a  rattle  of  talk  about  the  people 
at  Brent,  or  Bar  Harbor,  or  making  funny  little 
jokes  about  Mrs.  Cobb  —  yet  so  perfectly  well- 

159 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

bred  and  kind,  that  there's  nothing  to  get  angry  at, 
either.  Then  she  talks  about  Henry,  and  what 
a  wonder  he  is,  and  what  a  clever  lawyer,  and 
what  a  famous  aviator  until  for  some  unexplained 
reason  he  renounced  the  air  completely. 

"  Perhaps  you  can  tell  us  if  it's  in  consequence 
of  a  vow,  Mademoiselle,  since  he  broke  it  only  to 
rescue  you  ?"  In  fact,  I  might  think  she  was  in 
love  with  him,  only  she  looks  him  straight  in  the 
eyes  and  calls  him  Henry,  just  like  a  boy.  And, 
besides,  she's  going  to  be  married  in  the  autumn 
to  a  young  man  whose  picture  she  wears  in  a 
bracelet,  who  lives  in  Chicago. 

But  Henry  —  ah  !  he  and  I  don't  look  each 
other  straight  in  the  eyes.  But  when  he  looks 
away,  I  look  at  him,  at  that  clear,  energetic  profile 
and  those  quick  hands.  And  when  I  look  away, 
I  can  feel  his  eyes  on  me ;  and  in  their  glance  I 
can  feel  the  same  hurry  —  hurry  —  and  the  same 
yearning  hunger  that  I  myself  have  felt  all  these 
last  miserable  weeks.  He  is  unhappy,  oh  !  my 
dear  Henry,  who  for  me  forswore  his  favorite 
amusement,  who  has  saved  my  life.  He  is  un- 
happy for  me,  and  I  am  as  helpless  to  heal  his 
sorrow  as  a  little  lost  dog  that  cries  for  his  master  ! 

1 60 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

He  doesn't  talk  very  much;  I  do  not  see  very 
much  of  him.  And  certainly  he  hasn't  talked  to 
me  again  as  he  talked  in  the  water  that  day. 
How  wicked  I  am,  because  I  wish  —  I  wish  — 
And  yet,  I  mustn't  wish.  There  it  is,  you  see. 

In  the  meanwhile,  at  least,  I  live  in  the  house 
with  him  and  see  him  every  day.  And  his  mother, 
whose  eyes  are  like  his,  how  kind  she  is  to  me ! 
She  has  little  delicacies  brought  to  me  all  day 
long.  And  she  talks  to  me  about  her  young  days 
in  Paris,  and  the  Court  of  the  Second  Empire, 
and  papa. 

This,  I  say  to  myself,  is  what  life  might  be  if 
things  weren't  already  arranged  otherwise.  No 
bluster  and  bragging,  no  straining  and  scheming : 
just  to  live  so  quietly  with  these  two  people  whose 
heads  are  full  of  beautiful  thoughts,  and  whose 
hearts  are  full  of  kindness  for  me.  No,  I  can't 
—  no,  I  can't  go  away  and  leave  them,  and  go 
back  to  the  Cobbs !  I  can't !  But  I  must ! 
There  it  is  again,  you  see ! 

Mrs.  Cobb  has  been  to  see  me  every  day  — 
overjoyed,  you  may  be  sure,  to  possess  the  Open 
Sesame  that  brings  her  through  a  door  like  this. 
Victor  comes,  too.  He  has  one  cheek  badly 

161 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

swelled,  the  result  of  a  toothache,  the  result  of  a 
cold,  the  result  of  his  exposure  in  the  icy  water 
the  other  day.  His  mamma  evidently  does  not 
begrudge  a  full  account  of  the  symptoms.  But 
no  !  I  must  not  laugh  at  her :  she  is  so  sincere, 
poor  thing !  And,  after  all,  Victor  is  her  own 
son,  as  Henry  is  Harriet's ;  so  I  mustn't  wonder, 
I  suppose,  if  she  really  thinks  him  a  marvel  of 
brains  and  of  grace,  and  believes  the  long  tales 
he  has  told  her  about  his  heroism  the  other  day 
in  saving  my  life.  It  is  amusing  to  see  Victor's 
arrogant  head  come  down,  and  the  frills  of  his 
lips  quiver,  and  his  eyes  regard  me  sidewise  and 
imploringly.  He  is  so  afraid,  you  see,  that  I  will 
tell  his  mamma  the  real  facts  of  his  conduct  on 
the  overturned  boat !  As  though  I  would  do 
anything  so  ill-bred  !  But  it  is  amusing  to  see 
him  shake,  just  the  same. 

"  And  so  Victor  saved  his  little  bride's  life," 
says  his  fond  mamma  over  and  over  again.  "  Ah  ! 
it  makes  me  turn  pale  when  I  think  of  it.  What 
heroism  !  What  coolness  !  What  romance  !  Ah  ! 
how  proud  I  am  of  my  darling  bo-oy!" 

And  Nurse  declares  me  to  be  a  perfect  type  of 
a  French  marquise,  which  is  the  highest  praise 

162 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

she  can  give.  And  as  for  Henry  -  "  Ah,  if  it 
were  this  Monsieur  here  that  was  to  be  the  husband 
of  Mademoiselle,  instead  of  that  other  !"  she  says, 
until  it  seems  as  though  I  should  go  wild. 

For  the  moment,  however,  it  was  quite  another 
idea  that  set  her  pirouetting  around  me  with  her 
ancient  air  of  mystery. 

"  Well,  Genevieve,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  wait  till  the  automobile  of 
Madame  Stuart  has  surely  left  the  gate ;  for  she 
told  me  to  wait  till  Madame  Stuart  and  Monsieur 
her  son  had  surely  gone  out,  before  I  announced 
her!" 

"  But  who,  Genevieve  ?" 

"  But  the  young  person  who  desires  to  speak 
with  Mademoiselle,  to  be  sure!" 

"  There  is  a  lady  who  desires  to  speak  with  me  ? 
Then  why  didn't  you  say  so?" 

"A  lady!"  Genevieve  screwed  up  her  face. 
"  A  lady,  not  quite  —  a  lady  of  the  half-world, 
perhaps.  Well,  a  person  that  the  footman  of 
Madame  wished  to  put  to  the  door;  but  she 
pleaded  so  earnestly  to  be  allowed  to  see  Made- 
moiselle— " 

This  was  growing  interesting !  Ladies  I  knew 
163 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

in  plenty  since  my  introduction  at  Bar  Harbor; 
but  half-ladies  !  Whether  in  America  or  in 
France,  my  acquaintance  among  these  was  limited, 
and  I  felt  natural  curiosity. 

"  But  her  name,  Genevieve  —  did  she  give  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  forgot !     Here  is  her  card." 

With  a  patronizing  gesture  Genevieve  pro- 
duced a  large  visiting  card,  violently  perfumed 
and  bearing  these  engraved  characters  :  Miss  Fay 
Martin,  Sixth  Avenue. 

In  a  flash  I  understood.  "Show  her  up  imme- 
diately, Genevieve!" 

"  But  if  the  ladies  should  come  to  your  room, 
Mademoiselle  ?" 

"  But  you  said  they  have  all  gone  out  in  the 
auto,  and  Mrs.  Vanhuysen  told  me  they  would 
not  be  back  till  tea  time.  And,  anyway,  hasn't 
Mrs.  Stuart  given  me  full  liberty  to  feel  myself  at 
home  ?  Show  the  lady  upstairs,  Genevieve  !  " 

A  moment  later,  a  little  person,  elegantly 
dressed  in  white,  and  with  meshes  of  red  hair 
showing  under  her  closely  wrapped  toque,  was 
shown  into  the  room.  Though  I  am  by  no  means 
in  love,  as  you  may  fancy,  with  my  future  hus- 
band, still,  I  will  own  to  a  throb  of  curiosity  as 

164 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  surveyed  her.  What  was  the  type  of  woman 
that  could  pierce  that  egotism,  rouse  that  slug- 
gish interest  ?  My  first  impression  was  that  of 
disappointment;  for,  in  spite  of  her  embroidered 
Empire  frock  and  the  long  chain  on  her  gold  bag, 
Miss  Fay  was  at  first  sight  far  from  seductive  in 
her  appearance,  —  plain  and  pale,  was  what  I  said 
to  myself.  But  her  eyes,  as  they  were  lifted  to 
me,  gave  me  a  new  impression ;  these  eyes  she  had 
were  very  large,  odd,  and  attractive,  with  much- 
inked  black  lashes  and  beneath  them  the  bril- 
liant gleams  of  iris  which  one  always  associates 
with  adventuresses.  I  drew  a  long  breath.  Ac- 
cording to  Mrs.  Cobb,  I  now  stood  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  adventuress  of  the  purest  water.  A 
new  experience,  a  new  sensation ! 

"  Mademoiselle  Vauquieres  de  Clugny  ? "  in- 
quired the  newcomer,  in  a  languid  drawl,  but 
pronouncing  my  name  in  the  strangest  way  and 
with  a  curious  twang  in  her  voice. 

I  nodded.     "  Be  seated,  Mademoiselle  !" 

She  sat  down,  crossing  her  legs  very  high  and 
showing  the  most  beautiful  white  silk  stockings. 

"  You  must  excuse  my  coming  here  this  way," 
she  said,  "  but  it's  impossible  to  get  into  the 

165 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

Cobbs'  place.  The  old  lady  —  I  mean  Mrs. 
Cobb ;  excuse  me  —  keeps  such  a  tight  hold  on 
her  little  boy  that  it's  as  much  as  one's  life  is 
worth  to  bow  to  the  poor  chap  on  the  street.  And 
as  for  getting  into  the  house  and  seeing  you, 
Mademoiselle  —  well,  it  was  not  for  little  Fay  ! 
So  I  just  thought  I'd  profit  by  your  being  on 
neutral  ground ;  that  is,  in  the  house  of  another 
lady.  You  will  pardon  me,  won't  you  ?" 

Perhaps  I  was  not  so  severe  as  I  should  have 
been  to  this  intruder  who  spoke  so  freely  of  my 
future  husband  and  his  mother;  but  I  merely 
answered  with  some  coldness :  "  You  wished  to 
speak  to  me,  Miss  Martin  ?" 

She  appeared  embarrassed ;  between  her  hands 
she  twirled  a  lace  handkerchief  of  doubtful 
freshness. 

"  You  see  —  really,  it's  rather  awkward.  Now 
I'm  here  at  last,  I  hardly  know  what  to  say. 
But,  you  see,  until  just  recently  I  was  engaged  to 
Victor  Cobb  myself,  and  he  was  engaged  to  me. 
I'm  a  showgirl,  you  know.  I'm  in  demand 
right  along  for  high-class  shows,  and  in  'The 
Dollar  Princess '  I  had  three  lines  to  say.  That's 
where  I  met  Victor  —  Mr.  Cobb.  He  proposed 

166 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

to  me  right  away,  and  I  accepted  him.  Then  his 
mother  butted  in  and  talked  of  cutting  Victor 
out  of  his  father's  will  and  all  that  if  he  married 
me.  Victor  wanted  me  to  marry  him  secretly; 
but  no,  not  for  me  !  I  love  the  poor  boy  too  ten- 
derly to  be  the  means  of  impoverishing  him." 
Her  green  eyes  shot  out  a  knowing  beam,  and  in 
spite  of  myself  my  lips  twitched  in  a  smile.  Sud- 
denly she  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  hand  on  her  heart 
and  her  head  in  the  air.  « 

"  Mademoiselle,"  she  cried  dramatically, 
"  imagine  my  feelings  last  month  when  I  read  in 
the  papers  that  Victor's  mother  had  returned 
from  Europe  and  that  he  was  to  be  married  — 
married  at  once  to  the  daughter  of  a  Duke  !  I 
cried  all  night !  Then  came  the  terrible  letter 
from  Victor,  talking  about  poison  and  revolvers 
—  well,  you  know !  So  things  have  been  going 
from  bad  to  worse  until  finally  I  decided  to  come 
here  and  speak  to  you  face  to  face,  as  one  woman 
to  another.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about 
it?" 

The  question  quite  took  my  breath  away. 
What  was  I  going  to  do  about  it  ?  I  was  tempted 
to  answer  her  that  I  am  by  no  means  of  a  jealous 

167 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

disposition,  and  certainly,  where  poor  Victor  is 
concerned,  it  could  only  be  a  relief  to  me  if  my 
husband  should  have  some  —  er  —  distractions 
elsewhere.  But  alas !  I  knew  Mrs.  Cobb  well 
enough  to  realize  that  Miss  Fay  Martin's  cause, 
as  she  presented  it,  was  hopeless. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  answered  wearily,  "  what 
are  you  expecting  me  to  do  ?  Are  you  asking  me 
to  break  my  engagement  ?  As  you  know,  the 
cards  are  already  issued  for  the  marriage,  twelve 
days  from  now.  Next  week  my  family  arrive 
from  England  to  be  present  at  the  ceremony. 
What  are  you  suggesting  that  I  should  do  about 
it?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered  sullenly ;  "  but 
where's  the  use  in  being  a  swell  if  you  can't  do  as 
you  please  ?  And  to  tell  the  truth,  I  thought  per- 
haps you  might  feel  different  about  marrying  Vic- 
tor when  you  hear  he's  in  love  with  another  girl  —  " 

"  Why,"  I  cried,  "  what  difference  could  that 
make  ?"  Then  I  remembered  Portia's  and  Er- 
mentrude's  ideas,  that  your  husband  must  bring 
you  a  handsome  fortune  and  a  heart  full  of  love. 
Evidently,  though,  they'd  be  shocked  at  the  com- 
parison :  they  shared  the  views  of  the  little  figu- 

168 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

rante  before  me.  And  my  heart  throbbed  to  pain 
as  I  thought  of  Henry. 

"  Some  girls  would  go  to  the  church  and  make 
a  scene  the  day  of  the  wedding,"  she  went  on,  with 
a  sharp,  sidelong  glance.  "  It  would  be  a  fine 
ad.  for  me  too,  a  headliner  for  sure !  But  no, 
not  with  me  !  It's  got  to  be  all  perfectly  respect- 
able and  ladylike,  or  else  — " 

Genevieve  came  breathlessly  into  the  room. 
"  I  hear  the  ladies  returning,  Mademoiselle,  and 
I  think  I  see  Madame  Cobb  with  them  — " 

"  Then  I'm  going,"  cried  Miss  Fay  Martin, 
picking  up  her  long-handled  parasol.  "  I  certainly 
don't  want  to  meet  Mrs.  Cobb  —  no,  no  scenes 
for  me !  But,  Mademoiselle,  I  appeal  to  you 
ardently,  earnestly,  as  one  woman  to  another  — " 

Her  hand  was  on  her  heart :  one  could  see  that 
she  fancied  herself  on  the  stage,  with  a  great  scene 
to  play,  in  spite  of  her  expressed  distaste  for  them. 
But  in  spite  of  her  fantastic  vanity,  there  was  in 
her  voice  a  new  throb  of  sincerity  that  touched 
me  with  sudden  respect.  Whether  it  was  for  his 
good  looks  or  his  millions,  it  was  perfectly  obvious 
that  she  wanted  to  marry  Victor  Cobb.  And 
that  any  one  should  want  him,  actually  want  him 

169 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

and  not  be  able  to  have  him  —  Mon  Dieu !  it 
seemed  really  a  pity  ! 

"  Madame  Cobb  is  coming  !"  whispered  Gene- 
vieve,  peeping  through  the  half-closed  door. 

"  So  long,  Mademoiselle,"  said  Miss  Fay  Martin, 
and  in  spite  of  her  dread  of  a  scene  she  marched 
determinedly  straight  out  of  the  door. 

Half  in  terror,  half  in  a  dim  kind  of  hope,  I 
listened  for  a  possible  encounter ;  but  I  heard  only 
the  light  fall  of  steps,  the  soft  swish  of  silk.  And 
a  moment  later,  in  an  eruption  of  plumes,  satin, 
and  perfume,  my  future  mother-in-law  burst  into 
the  room. 


170 


CHAPTER   XIII 

WITHOUT  even  stopping  to  kiss  my  cheek 
according  to  custom,  Mrs.  Cobb  addressed 
me  breathlessly,  "  Who  was  that,  Lili,  that  I 
met  at  the  door  ?" 

Suddenly  out  of  the  half-finished  interview  with 
Miss  Martin,  vague  and  indeterminate  as  it  had 
been,  rose  the  dawning  idea  of  intoxicating  possi- 
bilities. Fixing  Mrs.  Cobb  with  my  eyes,  I  an- 
swered her  with  the  plain  truth,  in  the  slowest 
and  most  impressive  manner  of  which  I  was 
capable :  — 

"  That,"  I  said,  "  was  the  young  actress  of 
whom  you  have  told  me,  with  whom  your  son  is 
in  love  !" 

"  Fay !"  she  gasped,  and  collapsed  on  the  sofa. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

"  I  knew  it !"  she  cried  violently.  "  Some- 
thing told  me  so  !  That  is,  I  recognized  her  photo- 
graphs. Victor's  room  is  plastered  with  them  — 
that  is,  was,  before  he  became  engaged  to  you  ! 

171 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

And  now  back  she  comes  !  What  did  the  hussy 
want?" 

Again  I  served  myself  of  the  plain  truth.  "  She 
came,"  I  answered  succinctly,  "  to  beg  me  not  to 
marry  Victor,  because  she  is  in  love  with  him  and 
he  is  in  love  with  her  !" 

Mrs.  Cobb's  face,  beneath  the  sweeping  hat  with 
its  immense  emerald  plumes,  turned  an  almost 
similar  tint.  Little  pale  green  reflections  ap- 
peared at  her  nostrils,  at  the  corners  of  her  nicely 
reddened  lips.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  the  blood 
had  stood  suddenly  still,  congealed  by  the  same 
obstacle  that  threatened  the  master  passions  of 
her  heart. 

"  What  did  you  answer  ?"  she  asked  in  a  choked 
voice. 

If  I  was  to  obtain  any  benefit  from  the  complica- 
tions suddenly  opened  before  me,  it  was  plain  that 
frank  truth-telling  must  have  its  limits.  I  re- 
sponded guardedly :  — 

"  Madame,  I  had  no  time  to  answer.  She 
made  her  petition  to  me,  she  heard  you  coming, 
and  she  ran  away." 

"  But  what  would  you  have  answered  ?" 

Now,  if  there  is  a  set  of  persons  for  whom  I 
172 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

have  little  sympathy,  it  is  those  heroines  of  ro- 
mance who,  for  lack  of  one  lucid  word  at  the  proper 
moment,  let  their  lives  and  everybody  else's  slide 
into  the  ditch.  After  all,  Mrs.  Cobb  had  not 
shown  so  much  delicacy  toward  me,  when  I  was 
in  her  power,  that  I  need  be  afraid  to  speak 
openly  at  least.  And  a  sudden  rage  boiled  up  in 
me  at  the  thought  of  the  helpless  tangle  in  which, 
by  her  greedy  scheming  and  the  caprice  of  Fate, 
I  was  now  placed.  At  least,  and  for  this  moment 
that  Destiny  had  placed  a  weapon  in  my  hands, 
I  would  fight. 

"  Dear  Madame,"  I  answered  with  the  utmost 
sweetness,  "  did  you  ever  know  of  a  French  person 
who  would  willingly  keep  two  loving  hearts  apart?" 

She  stared  at  me  in  a  dazed  kind  of  way.  Evi- 
dently this  was  not  the  kind  of  response  she  had 
expected ;  so  I  pursued  my  advantage  by  add- 
ing: — 

"  How  that  poor  girl  loves  your  son,  Madame  ! 
Mon  Dieu!  How  she  loves  him  !" 

But  —  ah  !  that  was  where  Lili,  thinking  to  be 
so  clever,  over-reached  her  mark.  Mrs.  Cobb 
snorted,  actually  snorted,  like  a  cabhorse  in  cold 
weather. 

173 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  Loves  him  !  Of  course  she  does  !  I  should 
think  she  might  love  him  —  a  boy  like  my  Vic- 
tor!" 

"  But  he  loves  her !"  I  cried,  desperate  at  my 
lost  advantage. 

"  He'll  love  his  wife,"  she  retorted  grimly,  "  or 
I'll  know  the  reason  why  !" 

"  His  wife  !"  The  words  fell  cold  on  my  ears, 
and  my  heart  swelled  in  the  courage  of  despera- 
tion. "  Madame,"  I  said,  "  before  the  proposed 
steps  are  made  irrevocable,  would  it  not  be  best 
that  we  have  a  moment's  frank  conversation 
together  ?" 

"  As  many  as  you  like,"  she  answered  ;  "though, 
upon  my  word,  I  can't  imagine  what  there  is  to  be 
said  on  the  subject !"  And  she  nodded  her  head 
as  though  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  added. 

"  Nothing  more,"  I  cried,  "  when  everything 
is  so  changed  since  that  day  on  the  steamer  when 
we  arranged  everything  ?" 

"What?"  she  said,  with  a  black  look.  "I 
haven't  changed  !" 

"  Nor  I,"  I  answered  steadily.  Then,  "  Yes," 
I  cried,  "  I  have  !  In  those  days  I  was  a  French 
girl  —  for  my  months  in  England,  they  don't 

174 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

count  —  just  a  little  white  goose  who  didn't 
understand  anything  and  looked  forward  to  an 
arranged  marriage  as  the  most  natural,  inevitable 
thing  in  the  world.  To  be  sure,  there  were  special 
circumstances  that  made  me  hesitate;  but  the 
whole  idea  of  the  thing,  to  marry  the  husband 
that  had  been  picked  out  for  me  by  some  one  older 
and  wiser  than  myself  —  why,  I  had  never  thought 
of  anything  else  !  But  now,  though  I'm  as  French 
as  ever,  —  yes,  though  I  live  to  be  old  like  the 
world  itself,  my  dear  France  must  always  come 
first,  —  yet  I  begin  to  feel  myself  a  little  bit 
American,  too.  They  please  me  so,  your  Amer- 
icans, —  the  way  they  talk,  the  way  they  think, 
the  way  they  arrange  things !  And,  whether 
I  want  to  or  not,  I  can't  help  looking  at  things 
the  way  you  do,  you  others.  That  you  must 
know  and  love  your  husband  before  marrying 
him :  that's  the  American  idea,  isn't  it  ?  Well, 
Madame,  it  begins  to  be  mine  as  well !" 

"  All  right,"  responded  Mrs.  Cobb,  "  if  you 
haven't  got  to  know  your  fiance,  I'm  sure  it's 
your  own  fault,  living  right  under  the  same  roof 
with  him  —  properly  chaperoned,  of  course.  And 
as  for  loving  him  —  ah,  my  handsome  bo-oy  !" 

175 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  Certainly,"  I  answered,  "  that  poor  young 
girl  who  was  here  just  now  —  she  loves  him,  in- 
deed !" 

"  And  you,  Lili  ?"  Then,  as  I  did  not  answer, 
she  rose  and  came  toward  me.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  she  bristled  visibly,  like  a  cat  whose  kitten 
is  threatened.  "  Do  —  you  —  love  —  Victor  —  or 
—  don't  —  you  —  Elise  ?"  she  asked,  hammering 
on  each  word  as  though  it  were  a  nail. 

In  the  face  of  that  maternal  onslaught  who 
could  dare  to  tell  the  truth  ?  I  fumbled  confusedly 
for  my  answer.  "  Love  him  ?  Why,  it  depends 
on  just  what  you  mean  by  the  word.  If  you  speak 
of  amour,  if  you  mean  to  ask  me  if  I  am  really  in 
love  with  your  son  — " 

Mrs.  Cobb  brought  her  hand  down  on  the  little 
table  beside  my  sofa  with  a  slap  that  made  the 
bottles  ring.  Suddenly  her  aspect  changed,  her 
under  jaw  advanced,  through  the  open  door  of 
her  roused  passion  one  beheld  suddenly  step  for- 
ward the  girl  whose  father  had  sold  drinks  to  work- 
ing-men over  a  bar,  and  who  fought  her  way  up- 
ward to  this  ladyhood. 

"Love!"     she    cried    in    withering    accents. 
'  Who   in   time's   talking   about   love,    anyway  ? 

176 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

We're  not  talking  squush  :  we're  talking  business  ! 
When  we  made  our  arrangements,  was  the  word 
ever  so  much  as  mentioned  between  us  ?  Did 
any  one  ever  so  much  as  think  of  it  until  this 
little  idiot  of  a  chorus  girl  butted  in  with  her  silly 
stage  rot,  filling  your  head  with  these  vulgar  new 
ideas  which,  as  you  yourself  confess,  are  quite 
contrary  to  your  education  ?  Why,  did  you  ever 
for  an  instant  dream  of  questioning  the  present 
arrangements  till  that  confounded  young  trouble- 
maker came  ?  How  did  she  come  ?  How  did 
she  get  in,  anyway  ?  In  a  properly  conducted 
house  she  couldn't  have  put  foot  over  the  thresh- 
old. I  must  say,  I'm  surprised  at  Mrs.  Stuart  — " 

"  Dear  Madame,"  I  interrupted  in  a  sudden 
agony,  "  please,  please !  The  door  is  open  — 
if  any  one  should  hear  —  " 

Mrs.  Cobb,  thus  cut  short  in  her  flood  of  elo- 
quence, surveyed  me  with  suddenly  penetrating 
eyes.  In  spite  of  myself,  I  felt  the  blood  rush  to 
my  cheeks.  Those  metallic  blue  eyes,  fixed  upon 
me,  seemed  to  bore  through  to  the  utmost  secret 
of  my  soul. 

"  You  seem  singularly  upset,  Lili,"  she  said. 
"  I  wonder  why  ?"  And  walking  to  the  door, 

177 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

she  closed  it  softly.  Then  coming  back  to  my 
sofa :  "  I'm  on,"  she  said  in  strained  accents. 
"  I'm  jolly  well  on  now  !  You're  afraid  some 
one  will  hear  me  talking  about  Mrs.  Stuart. 
Who's  some  one,  I  wonder  ?" 

Her  voice  was  husky,  her  eyes  suffused.  For 
the  first  time  since  our  days  on  the  steamer,  when 
she  divulged  to  me  her  worries  about  her  beloved 
son,  I  beheld  this  adroit  schemer  and  intrepid 
champion  really  show  the  signs  of  inward  commo- 
tion. 

"  These  new  romantic  views,"  she  said,  "  these 
sudden  doubts  about  your  marriage  —  and  pre- 
tending to  me  it  was  all  for  the  sake  of  Victor  ! 
Look  here,  I  want  the  truth  !  Have  you  gone 
and  fallen  in  love  with  this  Harry  Stuart  ?" 

What  a  question  !  If  the  mere  thought  of  this 
new  emotion,  unowned  in  the  depths  of  my  heart, 
had  made  me  quiver  with  alternate  bliss  and  terror, 
think  how  disconcerting  it  was  to  hear  this  inward 
mystery  suddenly  shaped  in  these  crude  words, 
and  flung  into  my  teeth  !  I  could  not  answer. 
Like  a  silly  little  imbecile,  I  hid  my  face  in  my 
hands. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Cobb,  in  a  dry  tone,  "  that's 
178 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

a  pity,  for  you  and  for  my  bo-oy.  But  I  can't 
see  that  a  sudden  whim  on  your  part  is  in  any  way 
to  affect  existing  arrangements." 

For  the  first  time,  before  those  words  of  finality, 
there  rushed  into  my  mind  the  vision  of  what 
"  existing  arrangements"  meant.  Victor  Cobb, 
the  husband  of  Lili,  the  center  of  the  world  and 
of  the  house,  the  arbiter  of  destiny  and  of  every 
day's  doings,  the  father  of  Lili's  children,  the  com- 
panion of  Lili's  youth  and  of  her  old  age  !  That 
blustering  voice,  those  freckled  and  hairy  hands  ! 
No,  I  couldn't,  I  couldn't !  And  there  flashed 
into  my  mind  the  thought  of  "  Lucia  di  Lammer- 
moor"  that  I  once  saw  at  the  Opera  Comique, 
and  Lucia,  who  takes  a  dagger  to  her  room  on  her 
wedding  night. 

"  Mrs.  Cobb,"  I  said,  in  a  little  weeping  voice, 
"  please  don't  make  me  marry  Victor !  He  loves 
somebody  else.  And  I  —  yes,  I  love  somebody 
else,  too.  And  if  you  make  us  marry  each  other, 
I  can  assure  you  that  we'll  both  be  perfectly  mis- 
erable !" 

"  "  And  your  word,"  responded  she,  "  your  word 
that  you  gave  me  and  I  accepted,  when  I  picked 
you  up  out  of  the  mess  you'd  got  yourself  into, 

179 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

and  took  you  in  like  a  daughter  ?  Ah  !  you  were 
glad  enough  of  me  then ;  you  cried  at  the  very 
notion  of  going  back  to  your  aunt,  who  snubs  you, 
no  doubt !  You  couldn't  find  the  lady  you'd 
come  to  visit  — " 

"  But  Mrs.  Stuart  is  she  !"  I  cried  desperately. 
"  She  recognized  my  name  almost  immediately. 
It's  she  that  knew  my  —  my  family,  when  she 
was  a  young  girl  in  France.  The  letters,  the  min- 
iature, they  were  hers  !  It  was  she,  don't  you 
understand,  that  I  came  to  America  to  find  — " 

"  Only  you  didn't,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Cobb, 
with  violence.  "  You  found  me  instead,  and  glad 
enough  you  were  to  profit  by  the  chance  and  to 
work  me  for  a  good  thing  !  So,  weak  fool  that  I 
was,  I  took  your  promise  in  gospel  earnest,  and 
opened  my  heart  to  you,  and  spent  thousands 
of  dollars  on  you,  and  trumpeted  your  name  all 
over  the  country,  and  gave  you  my  darling  boy, 
the  only  child  I've  got,  for  your  husband  !  And 
at  the  last  moment,  just  because  a  young  man 
turns  up  that  you  think  sweller  than  my  Victor, 
you  renig  !  You  go  off  and  leave  us  in  the  lurch 
when  the  cards  are  out  for  the  church,  and  the 
Duchess  already  on  the  water  !" 

1 80 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

And  here,  before  I  could  even  open  my  mouth 
to  reply,  she  amazed  me  by  sinking  on  her  knees 
beside  my  sofa.  The  tears  started  up  in  her  eyes 
and  made  channels  down  her  discreet  rouge,  her 
voice  fell  from  anger  to  pleading,  and  I  saw  my 
adversary  become  my  suppliant. 

"Dear  little  Lili,"  she  said  passionately,  "my 
dear  little  daughter  as  I  hope  you'll  be,  I  do  ear- 
nestly beseech  you,  and  with  my  whole  heart, 
don't  go  back  on  me  now  !  If  when  you  first  knew 
me  I  was  distracted  at  the  idea  of  my  boy,  with 
his  life  before  him,  ruining  everything  by  tying 
himself  to  that  vulgar  little  adventuress,  think 
what  it  would  mean  to  me  now,  if  you  desert  me  ! 
I'll  own  to  you  frankly  I've  made  the  most  of  this 
alliance  and  the  Duchess  and  all,  to  push  myself 
into  the  best  set  —  and  I've  got  there  !  I've 
got  there  —  almost !  For  the  little  supper  at 
Sherry's  on  the  night  of  the  Duchess's  arrival 
I've  got  acceptances  that  represent  the  very  cream 
of  America,  coming  up  from  Newport  and  from 
this  place  on  purpose  —  people  that  wouldn't 
accept  diamonds  from  me,  I  own  it  frankly,  if  it 
weren't  for  you  and  your  aunt.  And  for  the  wed- 
ding breakfast  —  well,  the  list  of  acceptances  would 

181 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

bring  tears  to  your  eyes.  I  tell  you  for  me  it 
means  success  —  my  master  stroke  carried  to  a 
masterly  finish  !  And  the  wedding  presents,  the 
silver  and  jewelry  that's  been  arriving  at  the  house 
since  you've  been  gone,  —  if  you  could  see  those 
rows  and  rows  of  plush  cases,  I  really  think  they'd 
melt  your  heart !  And  then  the  cards  on  them 
—  it's  like  the  whole  of  Tiffany's,  with  the  Social 
Register  attached  !  Good  Lord,  Lili !  don't  tell 
me  to  send  them  back  again  !  Don't  tell  me  to 
issue  cards,  '  The  marriage  has  been  indefinitely 
postponed,'  while  the  bride  goes  off  and  marries 
Mr.  Harry  Mecklenburg  Stuart.  And  Victor 
and  me,  we  could  go  off  and  hang  ourselves ;  for 
never,  never  could  we  show  our  heads  in  New 
York  or  in  this  place,  either,  after  being  made  pub- 
lic laughing-stocks  like  that.  And  my  son,  fallen 
back  into  the  clutches  of  that  little  fiend  of  a  chorus 
girl !  Oh,  Lili,  think  of  it,  think  of  it !  To 
climb  so  high,  only  to  fall  back  lower  than  I  was 
at  the  beginning,  so  low,  so  low  that  never  can  I 
ever  hope  to  climb  up  again !"  She  actually 
sobbed  on  my  shoulder  —  she,  the  hard,  the  in- 
terested, the  inflexible. 

"  Oh,  Lili,  keep  your  word  to  me  !     Oh,  Lili, 
182 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  do  beg  and  beseech  you,  don't  go  back  on  me 
now!" 

Where  her  threats  might  have  left  a  loophole 
of  escape,  her  tears  left  me  powerless.  After  all, 
had  I  not  promised  ?  And  from  the  word  once 
given  there  could  be  no  escape.  "  Madame," 
I  said,  "  don't  be  afraid.  Since  you  claim  my 
word,  I  will  keep  it !" 

In  spite  of  my  best  resolution  the  words  gulped 
in  my  throat  with  a  sob.  And,  just  to  give  my- 
self courage,  I  touched  the  locket  at  my  throat 
—  the  dear  locket  that,  after  bringing  me  my  be- 
loved new  friends,  now  sentenced  me  to  leave  them 
forever.  For  what  did  it  say,  the  motto  of  the 
Vauquieres  coat  of  arms,  delicately  engraved 
there  on  that  pale  ancient  gold  ? 

.  "  Vauquieres  tient  parole"  Yes,  what  had  been 
said  of  the  first  Vauquieres  should  also  be  said  of 
the  last  and  least.  It  was  drama,  if  you  like; 
but  in  a  difficult  moment  in  life,  to  fix  one's  eyes 
upon  the  stars  may  help  one  to  wade  through 
the  mud.  And  the  thought  of  the  Vauquieres 
who  had  given  his  life  as  hostage  to  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  rather  than  walk  out  of  an  open  door, 
of  the  other  Vauquieres  who  had  gone  to  the  guillo- 

183 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

tine  because  he  held  to  the  family  motto  and  kept 
his  word  —  why,  these  things,  a  little  theatrical 
if  you  like,  helped  me  to  clench  my  teeth  and  keep 
the  pledge  that  I  had  given.  Yes,  I  had  given 
my  promise,  there  was  no  doubt  about  that.  And 
as  long  as  Mrs.  Cobb  chose  to  hold  me  to  my 
word,  no  power  in  heaven  or  on  earth  could  save 
me  from  being  a  liar  and  a  traitor  and  a  disgrace 
to  the  family  if  I  took  it  back  again. 

As  for  Mrs.  Cobb,  no  sooner  had  she  heard 
my  last  words  than  she  sprang  to  her  feet  with  sur- 
prising agility  and  as  gay  as  a  lark. 

"  Now  that's  settled,"  she  cried,  "  and  since  it 
could  only  disturb  him  if  he  knew  it,  we  won't 
say  a  word  to  Victor  about  this  —  er  —  Fay's 
visit,  will  we,  dear  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  wish  it,  Madame." 

She  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  "  Good  !" 
she  said.  "  My  precious  child,  I  promise  you 
that  I  shall  never  forget  your  honorable  conduct. 
What  clothes,  what  automobiles,  what  jewels 
you  shall  have  !  Your  new  parure  of  sapphires 
has  arrived  since  you  have  been  gone.  Wait 
till  you  see  it  —  if  that  doesn't  console  you,  I 
don't  know  what  can  !  Then  there's  a  big  box 

184 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

of  chocolate  marrons  —  and  your  wedding  veil 
with  a  border  of  Brussels  point  from  the  same 
woman  who  makes  for  the  Queen  of  England. 
And  then  Victor  is  waiting  for  you.  After  so 
nearly  losing  you  the  other  day,  I  can  assure  you 
the  dear  boy  is  learning  to  appreciate  you,  and  is 
most  anxious  to  see  you,  most  anxious  !  And  as 
for  love,  my  dear,  you  will  find  that  it  comes  with 
marriage.  You'll  love  your  husband,  never  fear. 
And  when  I  have  some  dear  little  grandchil- 
dren—" 

Ah,  Sacred  Virgin  !  That  —  never,  I  humbly 
petition  and  pray ! 

When  one  is  going  to  be  guillotined,  it's  better 
to  put  one's  head  on  the  block  at  once  and  be  done 
with  it.  So  I  put  out  my  hand  to  touch  the  bell. 

"  Genevieve,"  I  said,  when  my  old  nurse  ap- 
peared, "  you  may  pack  my  trunks  immediately. 
And  will  you  tell  the  maid  of  Madame  Stuart  to 
ask  Madame  if  I  may  come  to  her  room  and  say 
good-by,  as  Mrs.  Cobb  has  come  to  take  me 
home  !" 

But  no !  Mrs.  Stuart,  arriving  five  minutes 
later,  brought  all  her  delicate  but  firm  insistence 
against  this  decision.  See  how  droll  it  is,  the  life  ! 

185 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Here  was  Lili,  who  a  few  short  months  ago  had 
been  the  poor  relation,  the  burden,  the  young 
person  continually  called  by  every  one  and  truly 
wanted  by  no  one  —  here  she  was  elevated  into 
the  position  of  the  Prize,  struggled  for  by  two 
beautifully  dressed  ladies  with  diamonds  in  their 
ears  !  For  Mrs.  Cobb,  who  ordinarily  would  no 
more  have  resisted  the  great  Mrs.  Mecklenburg 
Stuart  than  I  would  the  Holy  Father  at  Rome, 
was  bold  with  the  strength  of  fear.  She  had  cap- 
tured me  safe ;  if  she  left  me  here  in  the  very  jaws 
of  the  enemy,  was  it  not  doubtful  whether  she 
should  ever  regain  her  quarry  ?  Her  thought  was 
so  plain  I  could  not  help  smiling  to  myself  in  a 
sour  kind  of  way.  My  smile,  however,  became 
more  genuine  as  I  heard  Mrs.  Stuart,  dear,  kind 
friend,  clench  the  matter  by  inviting  Mrs.  Cobb  to 
come  back  to  dinner  with  her  son,  quite  en  famille. 
"  I  think  my  boy  Henry  knew  your  son  at  Har- 
vard," she  said  sweetly.  "  He  will  be  delighted 
to  see  him  again.  Then  after  dinner  I  will  give 
this  dear  child  back  to  you  and  you  shall  take  her 
home.  There,  everything's  nicely  arranged,  isn't 
it  ?  Till  half  past  eight,  don't  forget !  Au  re- 
voir,  dear  Mrs.  Cobb." 

1 86 


CHAPTER   XIV 

HAD  I  known  what  was  coming,  would  I  have 
stayed  ?  Having  fought  my  way  through 
fiery  trials  like  the  saints  of  old,  would  I  have  re- 
mained for  the  last  and  crudest  temptation  of 
all  ?  Though,  perhaps  —  Mon  Dieu  !  how  weak 
we  are  when  we  try  to  be  strongest !  —  perhaps  I 
knew  it  was  coming,  and  hoped  for  it,  and  longed 
for  it. 

Mrs.  Stuart,  with  that  sweet  little  air  that  she 
has  sometimes,  which  makes  her  seem  always  like 
another  girl,  came  and  sat  down  beside  me  on  the 
sofa. 

"  Well,  well ! "  she  said.  "  And  so  I  won  out ! 
Ah  !  Don't  I  wish  that  I  could  win  for  good  and 
all,  and  keep  you  here  forever!"  Suddenly  a 
new  expression  came  into  the  blue  eyes  that  looked 
at  me  so  kindly  from  under  the  coronet  of  white 
hair,  an  expression  at  once  whimsical  and  serious 
yet  full  of  tender  inquiry. 

"  It's  too  late,  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  to  talk 
of  that?" 

187 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

She  took  my  hand  between  the  two  of  hers. 
I  turned  away  my  head.  All  I  could  find  to  say 
was :  — 

"  I  am  to  be  married  the  —  the  tenth  of  Au- 
gust." 

All  at  once  I  felt  the  kind  clasp  on  my  hands 
thrill  to  a  sharp  grip,  and  the  blue  eyes  were 
brought  very  close  to  mine  as  their  owner  said  :  — 

"  Listen,  Lili  !  I'm  an  old  lady,  I  don't  count 
as  a  woman  any  more.  And  what's  past  and  done 
with,  dead  and  buried,  —  oh,  hundreds  of  years 
before  you  were  born,  —  we  may  speak  of  together 
once,  just  once,  may  we  not  ?  And,  Lili,  it  will 
be  the  first  time  that  I  have  ever  spoken  of  these 
things  to  any  one,  of  these  things  that  lie  in  the 
very  middle  of  my  heart  —  the  first  time  to  any 
one  in  my  whole  life  !" 

A  long  sigh  broke  from  her  lips,  as  though  the 
confining  bands  were  indeed  burst  from  her  heart. 
And  the  blood,  released,  flew  to  her  delicate,  pale 
face,  transfiguring  it  with  the  same  look  of  youth 
that  I  had  seen  there  the  other  day,  when  she 
spoke  of  my  papa. 

"  Lili,  I  loved  your  father.  Never  in  my  whole 
life  have  I  loved  any  one  as  I  loved  him,  except 

188 


HER  WORD  OF   HONOR 

my  dear  Henry  —  my  dear  boy  !  But  —  oh, 
Etienne  was  different !  There's  one  evening  I 
remember,  when  I  ran  away  from  my  old  gov- 
erness and  met  him  by  the  river  — " 

Her  eyes  suddenly  enlarged  themselves,  and  were 
fixed  on  that  sweet  vision  of  a  long-dead  past. 
Ah,  that  evening  by  the  river  when  my  papa 
and  Harriet  were  young !  Perhaps  it  wasn't 
very  loyal  to  mamma,  but  —  oh,  I  did  feel  sorry 
for  them  ! 

Mrs.  Stuart  went  on :  "  But  I  wasn't  strong 
enough  to  deserve  so  much  happiness,  you  see. 
I'm  weak,  and  always  was.  So,  when  we  heard  that 
Etienne  was  dead,  when  we  came  back  to  New 
York,  and  met  Mr.  Stuart,  and  my  father  and 
mother  urged  me  —  you  know  how  families  can 
urge,  Lili  ?  —  at  last  I  gave  in.  I  married  him, 
and  he  was  always  very  kind  to  me,  till  he  died 
ten  years  ago.  But  —  oh,  Lili!"  she  cried,  "oh, 
my  dear  little  girl  that  might  have  been  my  daugh- 
ter, who  so  nearly  was,  to  you,  without  disloyalty 
to  him  who's  gone,  for  once  in  my  life  I  open  my 
heart  and  say :  Don't  marry  a  man  you  don't 
love  !  It  doesn't  matter  if  he's  kind  to  you,  it 
only  makes  it  worse;  you  can't  have  even  the 

189 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

satisfaction  of  hating  him  —  you  hate  yourself  ! 
You  hate  life  !  Life  !  What  is  it  to  the  woman 
who  has  married  the  wrong  man  ?  Oh,  the  deg- 
radation !  The  daily,  hourly  intimacy  — " 

She  suddenly  stopped,  carrying  her  hand  to  her 
mouth  to  check  the  uncontrollable  flood  of  self- 
revelation.  Then :  — 

"  Lili,"  she  said,  "  if  I  tell  you  this,  it's  only  to 
make  you  understand  —  you,  an  inexperienced 
child,  taking  the  greatest  step  in  life  —  under- 
stand something  of  what  you  are  doing.  You 
have  no  mother,  you  are  far  from  all  your  relatives  : 
this  little  scrap  of  loyalty  at  least  I  can  show  to 
my  dear  lost  friend,  and  take  for  a  few  minutes 
a  mother's  place  towards  his  little  daughter.  So 
I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  show  me  your  heart  as 
I've  shown  you  mine,  and  answer  the  absolute 
truth  to  my  question.  Lili,  do  you  love  this 
Victor  Cobb  as  you  should  love  the  man  who  is 
to  be  your  husband  ?" 

-  To  have  some  one  thinking  of  me,  —  of  me, 
Lili !  —  not  for  the  advantage  they  might  gain 
out  of  me,  but  with  thoughts  of  kindness  and  for 
my  happiness  —  it  was  so  long  since  it  had  hap- 
pened to  me.  It  seemed  so  unexpected  and  so 

190 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

strange,  that  in  the  mere  soothing  sweetness  of 
the  sensation  I  quite  forgot  my  troubles,  like  a 
little  child  cuddled  up  in  its  mother's  arms.  Mrs. 
Stuart  repeated  her  question.  I  turned  away 
my  head. 

"  You  forget,"  I  answered  in  a  low  tone,  "  that 
I  am  French.  In  my  country,  dear  Madame,  we 
make  marriage  for  suitability,  not  for  love  — 

"  You  are  French,"  she  said ;  "  but  you  are 
your  father's  daughter.  You  don't  resemble  him, 
perhaps ;  but  you  have  his  eyes,  and  when  I  look 
into  them,  it  seems  to  me  that  it's  his  soul  that 
looks  back  at  me."  Her  touch  tightened  convul- 
sively on  my  hand.  Is  it  this  way,  then,  I  asked 
myself,  when  one  loves,  that  even  after  forty  years 
one's  very  body  remembers  ?  Whether  or  not  she 
read  this  thought,  certainly  she  understood  the 
terror  of  it  as  it  passed  over  my  face.  "Yes," 
she  cried,  "  you  have  his  nature,  everything  in 
him  that  made  you  love  him,  and  be  proud  of  him, 
and  always  afraid  of  hurting  his  feelings  —  as 
you  were,  weren't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  I  answered  breathlessly.  "  Yes, 
indeed !" 

"  Well,  dear  child,  you  may  believe  me  who 
191 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

knew  and  loved  him  in  the  past,  and  who  now 
know  and  love  his  little  daughter,  —  what  he 
couldn't  have  borne,  you  won't  be  able  to  bear  ! 
Lili,  just  because  you  are  his  daughter,  you  are  a 
woman  who  cannot  sell  herself  for  an  establish- 
ment without  paying  more  than  the  finest  estab- 
lishment is  worth.  And  unless  you  love  this 
young  man  you  are  going  to  marry  as  a  wife 
should  love  her  husband,  as  —  excuse  my  frank- 
ness —  I  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  you  love 
him—" 

"Oh!"  I  cried,  unable  to  bear  any  more. 
"  Please,  don't  say  I'm  selling  myself  for  an  estab- 
lishment !  Please,  don't  think  I'm  that  kind  of 
mercenary  person  !  You  see,  the  circumstances 
were  so  very  special — "  And  before  I  realized 
what  I  was  doing,  because  she  was  Harriet  who 
had  known  papa,  because  she  had  spoken  to  me 
so  kindly,  or  just  because  my  heart  was  burst- 
ing and  had  to  take  a  little  natural  relief,  before 
I  knew  what  I  was  saying  I  had  told  her  every- 
thing, —  all  my  life  at  Brent  with  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth and  the  girls  who  didn't  want  me ;  all  about 
my  little  inheritance  and  my  idea  of  coming  to 
America  to  hunt  for  her;  then  my  despair  on 

192 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

arriving  in  New  York,  of  Mrs.  Cobb's  offer,  of  the 
compact  we  had  made  — 

"  But,  no,  that's  impossible !"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Stuart.  "  She  forced  you  into  such  a  bar- 
gain, you,  unprotected  and  alone  !" 

This  was  the  thought  that  sometimes  came  to 
me  in  my  moments  of  rebellion ;  and  to  hear  it 
thus  stated  in  tones  of  sweet  compassion  filled 
me  with  self-pity  almost  to  the  point  of  tears. 
Then,  whether  it's  the  spirit  of  philosophy  I 
have  tried  to  cultivate  or  just  the  necessity  of 
truth  that  my  race  has  always  put  before  every- 
thing, I  was  obliged  to  respond  in  a  juster 
spirit :  — 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Stuart,  you  can  put  it  that  way," 
I  cried  ;  "  yet  —  I'm  bound  to  own  it  —  there's 
another  side  to  the  question,  too  !  She  didn't 
force  me  into  the  bargain :  I  was  free  to  go  back 
to  England  if  I  chose.  Aunt  Elizabeth  had  wired 
for  me,  and  my  return  passage  and  Genevieve's 
were  already  taken.  But  I  didn't  choose  to  go 
back.  I  wanted  to  stay  in  America  ;  and  the  life 
Mrs.  Cobb  offered  me,  all  petting  and  diamonds 
and  beautiful  clothes  —  it  seemed  ideal.  To  be 
sure,  the  husband  added  to  the  bargain  —  I  did 

193 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

hesitate  a  moment  for  that.  But  only  a  moment 
—  what  else,  after  all,  had  I  looked  forward  to, 
and  what  would  have  been  my  marriage  if  papa 
had  lived  ?  —  *  Monsieur  has  so  many  thousand 
francs  of  fortune,  Mademoiselle  is  the  daughter 
of  a  Marquis  and  has  so  many  thousand  francs 
of  dowry ! '  And  here  was  a  husband  who  was 
willing  to  take  me  without  a  sou  of  dowry.  If 
Mrs.  Cobb  was  willing  to  take  recompense  from 
my  name  and  my  relatives,  instead  of  from  the 
fortune  I  didn't  have,  could  I  be  anything  but 
relieved  and  glad  ?  And,  after  all,  giving  me  her 
son  for  my  husband,  whether  one  agrees  with  her 
or  not  about  his  qualities,  still  one  must  confess 
she  certainly  had  no  idea  of  wronging  me  there  ! 
For,  after  all,  Victor  is  her  son.  And,  though  I 
haven't  any  children  myself,  still  I  sometimes 
fancy  I  can  imagine  how  children  seem  to  their 
own  mother  — " 

Mrs.  Stuart  stroked  my  hand,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  for  a  moment  that  I  saw  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Funny  little  Lili,"  she  said,  "  dear  little  Lili ! 
A  dear  little  name,  for  a  dear  little  girl !  Yes, 
you  are  right,  children  do  seem  like  that  to  their 
mother.  Even  Henry,  you  see,  to  me  — " 

194 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"But  — ah,  Henry!"  I  cried.  "He's  differ- 
ent!" 

I  felt  her  eyes  on  me,  penetrating,  infinitely 
kind.  Then,  as  I  raised  my  eyes  to  meet  them, 
I  knew  that  my  voice,  in  these  two  or  three  words, 
had  betrayed  my  secret;  for  the  glance  that  I 
met  looked  through  and  through  me,  to  the  very 
inmost  part  of  my  soul,  even  past  the  thought  of 
my  dear  papa,  to  where  nothing  lives  but  the 
thought  of  Henry.  Henry  !  All  day  long,  when 
I'm  awake  and  when  I'm  sleeping,  he's  there  in 
my  dreams  !  So,  as  I  know  that  she  knew  already, 
I  just  let  everything  come  into  my  eyes,  —  all 
my  longing,  all  my  struggles,  all  my  hope  that 
knew  itself  hopeless. 

"  This  is  an  odd  complication,"  she  said  in  a 
changed  voice,  hesitating  and  tender.  "  Will 
you  —  will  you  let  me  tell  Henry  ?  He's  a  law- 
yer, as  you  know.  He's  very  clever  at  it.  I've 
known  him  to  unravel  the  most  extraordinary 
affairs.  May  I  tell  him  ?" 

"  No !"  I  cried.  Then  I  paused  to  think. 
Was  my  refusal  delicacy,  was  it  Quixotism  ?  And 
in  any  case  was  not  one  reason  more  foolish  than 
the  other,  if  a  way  of  escape  could  be  pointed  out  ? 

195 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  Yes  !"  I  changed  my  negative.  "Tell  him, 
please.  But  —  oh,  dear  Mrs.  Stuart!"  I  cried 
with  a  sudden  thought,  "  no  one  else,  please  ! 
Imagine  if  people  heard  about  a  bargain,  or  co- 
ercion, or  anything  like  that  —  where  would  be 
the  social  advantage  that  Mrs.  Cobb  hoped  to 
gain  from  the  marriage,  which  it's  only  fair  she 
should  have,  because  she's  paid  for  it  ?  So  not 
a  word,  please  !" 

Mrs.  Stuart  stroked  my  cheek  —  what  a  soft 
hand,  what  a  tender  touch  !  "  Yes,"  she  said, 
"  you're  Etienne's  daughter,  one  can  see  that,  — 
the  same  delicate  scruples,  the  same  fine  sense 
of  honor ! " 

"  And  yet,"  I  cried  in  a  weeping  voice,  "  we're 
trying  to  find  a  way  out  for  me  to  break  my 
word!" 

She  seemed  perplexed.  "  No,"  she  said,  "  I 
could  never  advise  any  one  to  break  their  word. 
But,  you  see,  I  can't  help  feeling  that  I  have  the 
first  right  to  you ;  for  it  was  to  find  me  that  you 
came  to  America,  after  all.  Think  of  it!"  She 
looked  at  me  as  if  overcome  by  the  thought. 
"  You  came  to  find  me !  Etienne's  daughter 
looking  for  me,  and  I  wasn't  there  !  Oh,  you 

196 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

dear  little  thing,  if  I  had  been  there  !  No,  it's  too 
cruel  that  we  should  find  each  other  too  late;  it 
mustn't  be  too  late  !  Lili,  you  belong  to  me ; 
I  won't  give  you  up  !  I  won't  let  you  marry  that 
loutish  young  Cobb  —  never,  never  !  But,  never 
fear,  Henry  will  find  a  way  out.  He's  so  clever, 
Henry!" 

She  bent  her  face  suddenly  down  close  to  mine. 
"  You  do  like  Henry,  don't  you,  my  dear  little 
daughter?"  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  under  my  breath.  And  our 
eyes  met. 

What  our  words  meant,  I  could  not  doubt. 
She  had  offered  her  son  to  me  for  my  husband, 
and  I  had  accepted  him.  But  with  how  perfect 
a  delicacy,  how  different  from  that  other  mother 
two  months  ago  ! 

But  how  strange  a  country  it  is,  America, 
where  no  one  ever  thinks  of  money,  and  where  all 
the  mothers  want  Lili,  black  as  a  mole,  and  without 
a  penny  of  dowry,  to  be  their  daughter-in-law  ! 

At  least  here  in  two  months  it  had  happened 
twice  —  and,  alas  !  in  this  last  case  I  knew  that 
the  son  wanted  me  and  I  wanted  —  oh,  I  wanted 
him  ! 

197 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

Was  the  temptation  going  to  be  too  great,  after 
all  ?  Was  this  last  of  all  the  Vauquieres  going 
to  be  separated  from  her  family  traditions  as  she 
had  already  been  separated  from  France  ?  Was 
she  going  to  find  her  strength  insufficient  to  keep 
her  plighted  word  ?  What  disgrace  —  oh,  what 
black  disgrace  ! 

And  yet  I  wanted  Henry,  wanted  him  with  every 
bit  of  me,  in  strange  new  ways,  with  strange  wild 
feelings  that  I  had  never  suspected  until  I  fell 
in  love,  and  which  perhaps  —  perhaps,  will  be 
stronger  than  the  best  strength  of  my  soul. 

Why,  when  I  had  had  the  force  to  renew  my 
promise  to  Mrs.  Cobb,  did  I  walk  straight  back 
into  temptation  and  give  myself  the  whole  battle 
to  fight  over  again  ?  In  that  moment  I  wished 
sincerely  and  with  all  my  heart  that  I  had  gone 
home  with  Mrs.  Cobb. 

"  So,  now,  Lili,  as  Henry  is  waiting  to  take  us 
out  in  the  motor,  I'll  just  ring  for  Genevieve, 
And  in  the  hour  before  dinner  when  we  get  home 
I'll  tell  Henry  all  about  it.  He'll  find  a  way  out, 
you'll  see.  Though  he  is  my  son,  I  really  must 
own  that  he's  extraordinarily  clever  !" 


198 


CHAPTER  XV 

IT  has  been  like  a  gladiatorial  combat,  with  the 
little  brown  hand  of  Lili  as  the  prize.     The 
struggle   proceeds   progressively,  —  in   the   after- 
noon, the  two  mothers ;   in  the  evening,  the  two 
sons. 

At  dinner,  Mrs.  Stuart,  with  her  usual  delicacy 
and  attention  to  the  rights  of  others,  put  me  beside 
my  fiance.  Though  she  had  spoken  of  an  infor- 
mal family  dinner,  still  (as  usual,  I  find,  in  America 
when  they  use  that  expression)  we  were  quite  a 
large  party.  The  Cobbs,  Mrs.  Vanhuysen,  and 
Miss  Carroll,  with  two  or  three  friends  that  they 
had  invited,  another  two  or  three  of  Henry's 
friends,  —  all  together  we  made  no  small  tableful. 
Henry,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table,  was  obliged 
to  be  very  attentive  to  an  important  old  lady, 
invited  by  his  aunt ;  so,  between  this  fact  and  the 
hum  of  general  conversation,  and  the  flowers 
with  which  the  table  was  heaped,  I  remained  quite 
at  liberty  with  my  fiance  —  free  to  exchange  with 

199 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

him  if  I  chose  all  those  tender  nothings  that  two 
persons  in  our  interesting  circumstances  might 
be  supposed  to  be  murmuring  after  an  enforced 
separation. 

To  do  him  justice,  Victor  appeared  to  greater 
advantage  than  I  had  ever  seen  him,  except  the 
day  of  the  aeroplane  meet.  Apparently  he  was 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not  distinguished 
himself  the  other  day,  and  was  anxious  to  create 
a  more  dashing  impression. 

"  Corking  clams  !"  he  said. 

Ah,  those  dreadful  little  shellfish,  always  there 
with  their  taste  of  tears  when  my  heart  was  sad  ! 

"  Excellent !"  I  answered.  But  I  couldn't  eat 
them,  for  all  that. 

Victor,  as  though  delighted  with  his  success, 
continued  the  conversation.  "  I  say,  you  look 
corking  yourself  to-night,"  and  as  his  blue  eyes 
ran  up  and  down  me  suddenly  there  came  into 
them  for  the  flash  of  a  moment  that  look  which 
the  first  evening  had  chilled  my  blood  with  inde- 
finable repulsion,  —  those  eyes  of  the  Sultan  who 
has  bought  and  paid  for  so  many  pounds  of  flesh, 
and  means  to  have  the  worth  of  his  money. 
"  You've  got  a  corking  neck,  Lili,"  he  was  good 

200 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

enough  to  add,  "  and  that  little  blue  dress  is  out 
of  sight !     Is  it  one  of  the  —  er  —  " 

"  No,"  I  hastened  to  answer.  "  I  don't  wear 
those  till  —  er — " 

He  nodded.  "  Till  afterwards.  No,  of  course 
not !"  he  said. 

And  we  were  silent  for  a  moment,  while  a  des- 
perate resolution  formed  itself  within  me.  In- 
stead of  beseeching  the  mercy  of  Mrs.  Cobb,  who 
could  know  none,  instead  of  waiting  for  the 
"  extraordinarily  clever  way  out  of  it"  that 
Henry's  mother  knew  he'd  find  and  I  knew  he 
never  could,  why  not  do  what  I  should  have  done 
long  ago  and  address  myself  directly  to  head- 
quarters ?  After  all,  the  young  man  beside  me 
wanted  to  marry  me  no  more  than  I  wanted  to 
marry  him.  Except  for  the  caprice  of  gratified 
vanity  or  other  feeling  more  ephemeral,  except 
for  the  pleasure  of  ticketing  publicly  as  his  own 
the  girl  who  perhaps  —  perhaps  —  other  people 
might  want  too,  what  interest  could  he  have  in 
me  ?  And  if  what  the  other  girl  had  said  this 
afternoon  were  true,  then  his  interest  in  breaking 
off  this  impossible  marriage  was  perhaps  almost 
—  not  quite,  but  almost  —  as  strong  as  mine. 

20 1 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

In  that  moment  I  realized  how  effective  a  weapon 
Mrs.  Cobb  had  plucked  from  my  hand,  in  obtain- 
ing my  promise  not  to  tell  Victor  that  Fay  was  in 
town  and  had  come  to  see  me  that  afternoon. 

My  mother-in-law,  placed  at  some  distance 
from  me,  surveyed  the  interesting  pair  we  made 
with  a  smile  of  encouraging  delight.  She  was  all 
sparkle  to-night,  —  diamonds,  teeth,  and  eyes 
radiating  together  the  immensity  of  her  satis- 
faction at  finding  herself  among  such  company, 
seated  at  such  a  table,  toward  which  with  all  the 
fierce  intensity  of  her  ambition  she  had  struggled 
for  twenty  years.  Her  triumph  founded  on  my 
despair  !  It  seemed  to  me  that  my  very  stomach 
boiled  in  rebellion.  I  could  not  eat.  No,  I  must 
have  it  out  with  Victor,  then  and  there,  without 
waiting  another  minute.  If  I  had  needed  extra 
courage,  it  would  have  been  given  me  by  Henry's 
eyes,  which  every  now  and  then,  with  a  strange, 
burning  look,  met  mine  across  the  flowers. 

There  was  a  sudden  burst  of  laughter  as  Miss 
Carroll,  at  the  other  end  of  the  table,  began  giving 
imitations  of  a  London  coster  girl.  So,  under 
cover  of  this  diversion,  I  turned  to  my  fiance. 

"  Victor,"    I    said,    "  there's    something    we've 

202 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

never  talked  over  together.  Don't  you  think  it's 
about  time,  before  it's  too  late  ?" 

"What?"  he  asked,  with  a  surprised  stare  of 
his  round,  blue  eyes.  "  If  you  mean  the  upset 
the  other  day,  it  wasn't  my  fault.  It  was  the 
boat's.  She's  crank.  A  regular  tub.  I've  writ- 
ten to  order  a  new  one  — " 

"Oh,  I  don't  mean  the  boat!"  I  cried;  then 
lowering  my  voice :  "  Victor,"  I  said,  "  don't 
you  realize  we're  to  be  married  in  a  few  days  ? 
Tell  me  frankly,  what  do  you  think  of  it,  this 
marriage  ?" 

Victor  picked  up  his  champagne  glass  and  took 
a  nervous  sip  or  two  before  he  turned  to  me.  His 
face  was  flushed,  his  eyes  surveyed  me  doggedly. 

"  I'm  a  good  little  boy,  I  don't  think.  I  just 
mind  when  my  mamma  tells  me  to,"  he  answered, 
with  a  kind  of  bitter  grin ;  "  and,  besides,  you're 
rather  a  looker  yourself,  as  I  suppose  you  know, 
Lili  ?"  And  again  his  glance  traveled  from  my 
neck  to  an  orchid  in  my  hand,  with  that  look  I 
hate.  But  I  forced  myself  to  lean  toward  him 
with  an  air  of  the  most  affectionate  concern. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Victor,  for  the  compliment. 
But,  you  see,  I  have  been  given  to  understand 

203 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

that,  even  though  you  may  feel  a  little  bit  kindly 
toward  me,  yet  there's  some  one  else  that  you 
really  want  to  marry  —  that  you  really  love,  and 
who  loves  you  — " 

"  Who  ?  Fay  ?"  He  spoke  quickly,  almost 
loudly. 

"Hush!"  I  murmured  in  alarm.  "Your 
mother  is  listening  to  what  we  say,  and  this,  you 
understand,  must  be  quite  between  ourselves. 
Tell  me,  she's  pretty,  this  Mademoiselle  Fay?" 

"She's  a  corker!"  he  replied,  with  a  sudden 
spark  of  enthusiasm,  as  when  he  spoke  of  his  pups 
or  of  things  to  eat.  "  She's  the  lively  kind,  you 
see  —  not  your  style  at  all,  Lili.  Blonde.  Gauzy. 
Fuzzy.  Gee  !  I  don't  know  how  to  describe  her ; 
but  she's  an  all  right  one,  all  right,  anyhow." 

"  She  loves  you  very  much  ?"  I  murmured  into 
his  ear. 

Ours  was  in  fact  the  most  proper  little  interlude 
between  a  young  pair  in  so  interesting  a  situation, 
and  the  heads  on  each  side  of  us  'were  turned 
sympathetically  away.  Across  the  flowers  I  was 
conscious  of  Henry's  eyes,  grave  and  imploring. 

"  She  loves  you,  Victor,  very  much  ?" 

Into  his  face  came  that  master-of-the-harem 
204 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

look  that  I  find  so  odious  —  though  less  so  for 
Fay,  I  will  own,  than  for  myself.  "  How  senti- 
mental you  are,  you  French !  Yes,  poor  little 
girl,  there's  not  much  doubt  about  it.  She'd 
leave  her  happy  home  for  muh,  all  right,  all  right, 
if  she  got  the  chance  !" 

"  Poor  little  thing  !"  my  voice  fairly  dripped 
with  tears.  "  And  she's  not  going  to  get  the 
chance,  after  all  ?" 

He  turned  a  suspicious  face  on  me.  "  What 
are  you  driving  at,  Lili  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  I  answered,  with  a  candid  sweet- 
ness, "  only  I  wanted  you  to  understand  how 
deeply  I  feel  for  you  in  this  sacrifice  you're  called 
on  to  make,  and  if  there's  anything  I  can  do  — " 

"  What  can  you  do,"  he  returned  sullenly, 
"  except  back  out  ?  And  if  you  fancy  that  that'd 
help  matters  at  this  stage  of  the  game,  with  the 
cards  out  for  the  church  and  the  cake  ordered  — " 

"  But  just  let's  put  it  for  the  sake  of  argument ; 
suppose  I  did,  wouldn't  you  be  glad  ?"  I  asked, 
feeling  my  way. 

"What?"  he  asked  sharply.  "J)o  you  want 
to  back  out  ?" 

Mon  Dieu !  I  did  not  suppose  I  had  so  much 
205 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

guile  in  me.  But  I  could  plainly  perceive,  you 
see,  that  if  he  once  got  the  notion  in  his  head  that 
I  didn't  want  him,  he  might  begin  from  pure 
contrariness  to  want  me.  So  I  made  my  eyes 
as  sweet  as  possible  and  answered  diplomati- 
cally:— 

"  If  I  agreed  before  I  saw  you,  do  you  think 
it  likely  I'd  want  to  back  out  after  I've  seen  you  ? 
But  I  wasn't  thinking  of  myself;"  I  was  thinking 
of  you,  Victor.  And  I  know  how  contrary  it  is 
to  the  custom  of  your  country  that  a  young  man 
should  have  his  wife  picked  out  for  him  by  his 
mother  —  you,  a  free  American  citizen  — " 

"  A  free  American  citizen,"  he  replied,  "  with 
mother  in  the  family  ?  Let  me  laugh  !"  which  he 
did,  sardonically. 

My  heart,  after  the  momentary  elation,  began 
to  sink  again.  "  Then  your  mother  is  very  —  er 
—  masterful?"  I  asked. 

He  pursued  his  idea.  "A  free  American  citizen  ! 
Do  you  think  father  was  one  ?  Listen,  I'll  tell 
you  about  father.  He  was  a  crackerjack,  father 
was.  Started  with  a  pick ;  cashed  in  for  fifty 
millions,  more  or  less.  But  this  was  how  free  he 
was :  he  cast  his  vote  as  he  liked  because  momma 

206 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

couldn't  follow  him  into  the  booth."^ Policemen 
wouldn't  let  her.  But  at  home  —  gee  !  There 
wasn't  any  policeman  !  Say,  I'll  tell  you  some- 
thing I  remember.  When  I  was  a  kid  in  Butte, 
mother  joined  the  Woman's  Club  and  wanted 
two  parlors ;  so  she  took  father's  room  and  rushed 
a  plush  suite  into  it.  And  father  —  where  do  you 
think  she  put  him  ?  There  was  a  toolhouse  in 
the  garden  she  had  papered  and  sent  him  to  sleep 
there.  It  was  funny  to  see  him  winter  nights, 
throw  down  his  Evening  News,  and  light  his 
lantern  and  start  for  bed  with  a  snow  shovel  — 
to  dig  his  way  back  to  the  house,  you  see,  in  case 
the  snow  fell  heavy  before  morning  —  as  it  did, 
mostly.  That  was  before  he  struck  it  rich.  But 
a  couple  of  years  later  he  managed  to  scrape 
enough  together  to  buy  the  Legislature  at  Helena, 
and  have  the  railroad  brought  around  by  the 
Little  Henrietta,  his  first  copper  mine.  After  that 
we  moved  to  Chicago,  and  he  slept  in  the  house. 
But  I  guess  he  kind  of  missed  the  quiet  of  the  tool- 
house." 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard  Victor  talk 
so  much.  And  his  discourse,  though  rambling, 
had  a  kind  of  awful  pertinence  that  told  me  this 

207 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

way  was  closed.  Launched  on  a  topic  where 
fluency  was  easy,  Victor  swept  on  :  — 

"  And  here  you  strike  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
mess,  —  father's  will.  Hang  it !  I  oughtn't  to 
blame  him,  knowing  mother  !  But  it  was  tough 
on  me ;  a  rotten  shame,  that's  what  it  was  !  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  father's  will  ?  It  went  the  round 
of  the  world,  —  fifty  millions,  disposed  of  in  fifteen 
words :  *  I  leave  all  my  property,  real  and  per- 
sonal, to  my  beloved  wife,  Henrietta  McNabb 
Cobb  !'  A  peach  of  a  will,  when  he  had  a  son, 
wasn't  it  ?  But  he  made  it,  —  sound  mind,  wit- 
nesses, signs,  seals,  and  everything.  So  when 
mother  says,  'Come!'  I  come.  When  she  says, 
'  Get  out !'  I  get.  And  when  she  says,  '  Crawl !' 
why  —  darn  it — " 

And  as  the  butler  filled  his  glass  again  with 
champagne  he  interrupted  himself  to  drain  it  to 
the  bottom.  His  eyes  took  on  a  kind  of  dull 
sparkle,  his  voice  fell  to  accents  of  acute  self-pity, 
as  he  went  on  :  — 

"  It's  hard  on  me.  That's  what  it  is,  it's  rotten 
hard  on  me  !  Look  here,  I'll  own  to  you  frankly : 
I'm  not  stuck  on  you,  Lili !  You're  a  corking 
girl ;  but  I'm  not  stuck  on  the  idea  of  marrying 

208 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

you !  I'm  stuck  on  Fay.  She's  a  —  she's  a 
bird,  that's  what  she  is  !  But  what's  the  use  ? 
Mother's  got  the  screws  on  me,  for  fair.  I'm 
the  son  of  a  millionaire ;  but  I  can't  pay  a  car- 
fare or  buy  a  bag  of  peanuts  without  running  and 
asking  momma  for  a  nickel,  like  a  two-year-old. 
So,  when  she  chooses  to  use  me  for  her  bug  — " 

"What?"  I  cried. 

He  snorted.  "  Don't  you  know,  as  well  as  I  do, 
mother's  got  a  bug  ?" 

My  eye  went  to  the  lady  in  question,  immacu- 
late in  her  gray  lace,  her  shoulders  shining  under 
their  enamel.  Victor  burst  out  into  a  grim  guffaw. 

"  I  see  you  don't  understand  United  States  yet ! 
Mother's  bug,  you  know.  What's  biting  her,  I 
mean.  This  society  business,  don't  you  under- 
stand ?" 

"  Ah  !"  I  nodded,  understanding.  "  Yes,  I've 
noticed  your  mother  adores  the  monde." 

"  The  what  ?  Oh,  yes,  the  society  game.  Adore 
it  ?  She'd  kill  herself  for  it !  That's  the  way  she 
killed  father.  Carried  him  to  Chicago,  then  to 
New  York,  cooped  him  up  till  he  got  liver  com- 
plaint and  just  went  off.  And  glad  enough,  poor 
old  boy,  I'll  bet !  What  did  he  care  about  the 

209 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Vandergilts  ?  But  mother  !  She'd  let  herself  be 
torn  to  pieces  by  wild  mustangs,  if  one  of  them 
would  speak  to  her.  It's  the  Four  Hundred  or 
bust  for  her  !  That's  what  this  marrying  game  is 
for,  you  see  !  And  it's  a  good  one,  all  right,  all 
right.  This  time,  mother's  made  a  home  run. 
Gee  !  you  ought  to  see  the  cards  with  some  of  the 
wedding  presents  !  It's  your  aunt  the  Duchess 
and  all  that  that's  done  it.  Whereas,  if  I  married 
Fay  —  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  married  that  dear  little  Fay,"  I 
said  breathlessly. 

"  Fay's  a  perfect  lady,  understand.  She 
doesn't  really  have  to  work,  only  she's  a  passion 
for  the  stage.  She's  as  straight  as  a  string,  too; 
it's  the  parson  or  by-by  Charley  for  her,  as  she 
has  said  a  hundred  times.  And  when  I'm  married, 
she  says  I  can  ring  her  doorbell  all  day  long, 
she'll  never  open  enough  for  me  to  put  my  nose 
in.  And  she'll  stick  to  it.  Ah !"  he  sighed 
heavily,  and  attacked  the  pressed  duck  on  his 
plate. 

"  Then,  Victor,"  I  whispered,  "  since  Fay  is 
such  a  noble  girl,  pure  as  she  is  beautiful,  and 
since  you  love  her  so,  why  don't  you  go  straight 

210 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

to  your  mother  and  say  to  her  frankly :  '  Pm 
a  free  American  citizen.  I  claim  the  right  to 
choose  my  wife  for  myself  — ' ' 

"  To  mother  ?"  he  replied  in  withering  tones. 
"  You'd  go  to  mother  and  talk  like  that,  would 
you  ?  If  you  think  it'd  be  so  easy,  then  try  it  for 
yourself  —  only  I  recommend  you  to  get  a  rubber 
coat  and  a  life  insurance  policy  before  you  spring 
your  little  spiel !  Watch  me  try  it !  I'd  get 
rushed  out  the  front  door,  and  not  another  nickel 
would  I  get  from  her  while  she  lives,  and  when 
she  dies,  her  money  goes  to  a  lot  of  measly  charities. 
Her  money  ?  Father's  money  —  and  his  only 
son  a  beggar!"  He  applied  himself  again  to  the 
champagne,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  take  on  a 
tearful  look.  "  For  that's  what  I'd  be,  Lili ! 
What  could  I  do  to  earn  my  living  ?  I  haven't 
been  brought  up  to  earn  it.  I  can't  start  out  all 
over  again  like  father.  Hang  it !  he  wasn't  a 
gentleman,  and  I  am.  I  dress  in  a  sweater  some- 
times, to  tease  mother ;  but,  hang  it !  I've  been 
to  Harvard,  and  I've  got  expensive  tastes.  I 
can't  live  in  a  beastly  Harlem  boarding-house 
and  swing  to  a  strap  every  morning.  I'd  rather 
be  dead  —  or  marry  you.  So  here  goes  !"  And 

211 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

he  put  down  his  champagne  glass  with  a  deep 
sigh. 

I  echoed  the  sigh  with  a  full  sincerity.  As  I 
had  feared,  Victor  was  but  a  broken  reed  on  which 
to  lean.  After  all,  I  could  not  blame  him.  What 
else  could  his  father's  foolish  will  and  his  mother's 
tyrannical  treatment  make  of  him  but  this  surly 
grown-up  child,  without  character  or  individuality 
of  his  own  except  to  reach  out  in  a  desperate 
lunge  toward  the  fortune  that  should  be  his  ? 
And,  after  all,  I  couldn't  blame  Mrs.  Cobb, 
either :  she  thought  she  was  acting  for  his  good 
as  her  own.  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  she  was. 
And,  in  any  case,  I  couldn't  reasonably  expect 
either  of  them  to  think  of  me. 

Nevertheless,  my  case  was  too  desperate  to  be 
dropped  without  one  more  little  attempt.  "  Vic- 
tor," I  whispered,  "  of  course  I  see  that  if  you 
broke  up  this  marriage,  your  mother  would  never 
forgive  you.  But  if  I,  just  because  you  love  Fay 
and  she  loves  you  — " 

"  If  you  broke  it  off,  you  mean  ?"  said  Victor, 
sharply.  Suddenly  his  face  changed  ;  the  blurred 
eyes,  the  puffy,  indeterminate  features  lit  with  a 
sharp  look  of  life,  drew  themselves  to  a  keen  point 

212 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

of  concentration,  —  the  same  look  that  I  remem- 
ber to  have  seen  on  so  many  people's  faces,  on 
Aunt  Elizabeth's,  for  instance,  or  the  rector's 
at  Brent  when  they  speak  of  "  money."  And  all 
in  a  flash,  beneath  the  Victor  of  a  moment  ago, 
whom  I  had  thought  to  understand,  there  existed 
another,  however  obscured  by  habits  of  self- 
indulgence  and  of  dependence.  The  Victor  on 
whom  I  looked  now  was  the  rightful  son  of  the 
father  who  had  battered  that  colossal  fortune  out 
of  the  world,  and  the  mother  whose  single-handed 
ambition  had  placed  her  where  I  saw  her  to-night. 
"  Look  here,  Lili !"  he  said  determinedly. 
"  There's  twenty-five  million  dollars  more  or 
less  in  question ;  do  you  understand  that  ?  Be- 
cause it  suits  her  purposes  that  I  marry  you, 
that's  the  sum  that  mother  has  promised  to  hand 
over  to  me  on  our  wedding  day,  —  half  of  father's 
fortune  that  ought  to  have  been  mine  when  I 
came  of  age.  The  deeds  are  all  prepared  —  to  be 
signed  and  sealed  on  the  morning  of  the  tenth 
before  we  drive  to  the  church.  She's  handing 
over  the  whole  P.  &  L.  System  to  me,  —  twelve 
millions,  they  estimate  it,  —  then  a  bunch  of 
gold  bonds,  and  a  whole  lot  of  little  things,  — 

213 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

an  automobile  factory,  a  race  track  in  New  Or- 
leans, and  so  forth.  Do  you  know  what  that 
means,  Lili  ?  Damn  it !  It  means  I'll  be  a  man 
at  last!"  And  he  brought  his  fist  down  on  the 
table  so  that  the  champagne  leaped  sparkling 
from  his  newly  filled  glass,  and  people  on  each 
side  of  us  smiled  discreetly  as  at  a  lover's  quarrel. 

"  So  there  you  have  it,  Lili,"  he  concluded. 
"  At  the  beginning  perhaps  it  wouldn't  have 
mattered ;  but  now  that  things  have  gone  so  far 
—  no,  it'd  be  jumping  from  the  frying  pan  into  the 
fire.  People'd  give  mother  and  me  the  geehee  all 
around,  if  you  threw  us  down  at  this  stage  of  the 
game.  We'd  have  to  send  the  wedding  presents 
back ;  we'd  have  to  leave  town.  I  tell  you  there'd 
be  hell  to  pay  all  around  !  And  I  couldn't  marry 
Fay,  anyway — and  I'd  lose  all  that  money  !"  His 
face  turned  pale  and  his  voice  shook  in  the  intensity 
of  his  feeling.  "  Twenty-five  millions  !  No,  Lili, 
you  can't  go  back  on  us  now  !  I'll  settle  a  million 
on  you  outright  —  two  millions,  if  you  like  —  but 
don't  you  go  back  on  me  now,  for  the  Lord's  sake  !" 

So  that  was  all  the  satisfaction  I  got  from  Victor. 
My  last  card  was  played  and  lost.  For  Henry,  even 
though  he  is  so  clever,  what  was  there  for  him  to  do  ? 

214 


CHAPTER  XVI 

I  MUST  own,  however,  that  Henry's  first 
move  after  dinner  compelled  my  admira- 
tion. I  saw  him  speaking  for  a  moment  with 
Miss  Carroll.  She's  kind  and  pleasant,  Miss 
Carroll,  and  not  at  all  a  flirt,  as  Aunt  Elizabeth 
said.  The  next  moment  she  came  over  to  where 
Victor  and  I  were  standing  together  and  invited 
us,  so  sweetly,  to  come  and  look  at  the  collection 
of  boats,  models  that  Henry's  father  had  left. 

"  There's  every  kind  of  punt  and  galley  and 
junk  that  was  ever  invented,  Mr.  Cobb,"  she  said, 
"  and  I  rely  on  you  to  explain  them  all  to  me.  I 
hear  you're  extraordinarily  clever  at  that  sort  of 
thing." 

Victor,  bristling  with  gratified  vanity,  pro- 
fessed himself  quite  willing  to  act  as  the  lady's 
teacher.  So  she  invited  two  or  three  others  to 
accompany  them,  and  she  managed  so  well  that 
before  I  knew  it  Victor  was  holding  forth  to  an 
attentive  audience  of  girls  at  one  end  of  a  long, 


HER   WORD   OF   HONOR 

dimly  lit  gallery,  and  Henry  and  I  were  examin- 
ing Sudanese  jewelry  at  the  other. 

Henry  looked  at  me  coldly,  and  my  heart  sank. 
"  You  seemed  very  well  entertained  at  dinner, 
Mademoiselle,"  he  said. 

Ah  !  I  understood  !  He  was  jealous  —  jeal- 
ous of  Victor  !  I  burst  into  unsteady  laughter. 
"  I  was  trying  to  persuade  him  —  to  refuse  to 
marry  me,"  I  said. 

He  drew  a  long  breath,  and  I  saw  by  his  face 
that  he  wanted  to  take  me  in  his  arms,  as  he  had 
done  that  day  in  the  water.  The  blood  ran  to 
my  head ;  I  felt  all  giddy  and  light  and  happy  — 
oh,  so  wickedly,  piercingly  happy  !  We  smiled 
at  each  other. 

"  I'm  ridiculous,  forgive  me,"  he  said ;  "  but 
somehow,  to  see  you  with  that  fellow  —  Listen, 
Lili !"  he  interrupted  himself  hurriedly.  "  We 
have  only  a  few  moments  to  speak  together  and 
much  to  be  said.  You  know  what  I  feel  toward 
you  —  don't  you  ?  These  days  that  you  have 
been  my  mother's  guest,  I  have  tried  to  respect 
you  and  your  situation  as  another  man's  promised 
wife.  It's  been  a  tough  struggle ;  but  I've  kept 
my  mouth  shut,  haven't  I  ?  Haven't  I  ?  Look 

216 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

at  this  pendant !  The  carving  of  these  tur- 
quoises is  considered  very  remarkable  !" 

For  a  moment,  as  the  conversation  at  the  other 
end  of  the  hall  subsided,  he  thrust  a  large  lump 
of  a  silver  ornament  into  my  hands.  I  touched 
it  mechanically  with  a  wandering  finger.  Ah ! 
to  be  near  Henry,  to  see  his  face  and  hear  his 
voice,  to  speak  with  him  at  last  heart  open  to 
heart ! 

"  But  to-night,  Lili,  my  mother  has  come  to 
me  with  the  most  extraordinary  story,  the  most 
amazing  !  Listen  !  Have  I  understood  it  rightly  ? 
Is  it  true  in  the  first  place  that  mother  knew 
your  family  long  ago  in  France,  and  that  you 
came  to  America  with  the  single  object  of  finding 
her?" 

Ah,  my  family !  Even  to  this  son  of  hers  she 
had  not  spoken  of  papa.  No,  the  dear,  long- 
dead  past,  I  saw,  was  to  remain  forever  a  secret 
between  Harriet  and  me.  Somehow,  the  thought, 
striking  through  the  confusion  of  the  moment, 
drew  me  closer  to  her,  nearer  in  spirit  even,  than 
to  her  son.  Ah !  the  dear,  dear  friends  that 
to-night  I  must  leave  forever ! 

"  Listen,  Lili.  And  is  it  true  also  that  you 
217 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

are  marrying  this  fellow  Cobb  only  on  account 
of  a  compact  made  with  his  mother  before  your 
arrival  at  New  York,  that  if  you  could  not  find 
us,  your  friends,  you  would  enter  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Cobb ;  that  she  should  give  you  her  protec- 
tion and  supply  your  needs,  and  that  you  in  turn 
should  marry  her  son  ?" 

I  felt  my  face  burn  with  shame.  How  ugly 
it  sounded,  our  bargain,  how  sordid,  thus  stated 
by  the  person  whose  respect  I  wanted  more  than 
any  one  else's  in  the  world  ! 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  feebly,  forcing  myself  to 
tell  the  truth,  "that  was  our  understanding.  But 
please  don't  think  too  badly  of  me  for  consenting 
to  it !  You  see,  I  had  been  brought  up  to  ideas 
of  marriage  very  different  from  those  you  have 
here,  you  other  Americans.  Oh,  I've  changed  so 
much,  I've  learned  so  much,  since  I've  been  here 
in  America  !  But  then  it  seemed  quite  natural, 
and  my  duty  besides,  to  accept  the  husband 
picked  out  for  me  by  some  one  older  and  cleverer 
than  I.  To  be  sure,  I  had  never  seen  him ;  but 
on  the  other  hand  he  was  willing  to  take  me 
without  a  sou  of  dowry.  That  was  my  great 
difficulty,  after  all.  You  see,  poor  papa  had  mis- 

218 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

fortunes  before  he  died  —  and  there  I  was  before 
New  York,  not  knowing  a  single  soul,  with 
Genevieve  on  my  back,  and  only  five  hundred 
francs  in  the  whole  world  !" 

"  Poor  little  girl !"  Henry's  voice  actually 
shook,  and  his  eyes  were  —  oh,  so  kind  as  he 
looked  at  me,  but  with  something  behind  them 
that  made  me  tremble,  too !  "  Poor  beautiful 
little  thing !  After  all,  you  might  have  fallen 
into  worse  hands  than  Mrs.  Cobb's.  But  God 
knows,  hers  were  bad  enough !  Look  here  — 
this  infamous  compact,  you  are  sure  it  was  made 
on  a  German  ship  before  your  arrival  at  New 
York?" 

"  It  was  made  on  the  sea  —  in  the  harbor, 
before  we  landed."  I  began  to  tremble;  what 
was  coming  now  ? 

"  But  on  the  steamer,  I  mean  ?  The  condi- 
tions were  explained  to  you,  you  had  given  your 
promise  assenting  to  them  before  you  left  the 
ship,  and  not  after  ?  The  compact  was  made 
between  you  and  Mrs.  Cobb,  that  is,  before  your 
foot  had  touched  American  soil  ?'' 

"Yes  — yes!" 

"  Lili,  come  here!"     It  was  Victor's  voice. 
219 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

I  turned  faint  and  ill  with  vexation ;  but  what 
could  I  do  ?  He  advanced  toward  me  with  a 
little  boat  model  in  his  hand.  "  Lili,  see  this 
junk !  Isn't  it  a  peach  ?  Let's  have  one  made 
for  our  wedding  trip,  instead  of  the  Brunhilda, 
shall  we?" 

Victor  was  in  great  spirits,  so  much  was  plain. 
The  champagne  he  had  drunk,  the  thought  of 
his  approaching  independence,  Miss  Carroll's 
beauty  and  obliging  flatteries,  —  all  these  influ- 
ences had  combined  to  exalt  him  and  make  him 
very  ready  to  claim  me  as  his  property  before 
this  roomful  of  people.  Oh,  the  unhappiness, 
the  degradation  of  that  moment,  as  I  realized  that 
to  his  words  as  to  his  glance  I  had  no  choice  but 
to  submit,  and  smile  submissively !  La  belle 
Scheherazade,  they  called  me,  did  they  ?  Never 
was  Scheherazade  half  so  much  a  slave  as  I,  and 
by  no  recounting  of  a  thousand  tales,  or  a  million 
either,  could  I  hope  ever,  ever  to  be  free  ! 

But  what,  after  all,  was  Henry  on  the  point  of 
telling  me  ?  I  burned  with  impatience.  I  could 
have  killed  poor  Victor  at  that  moment,  as  he 
went  on  making  his  silly  jokes  about  the  junk 
and  our  Chinese  honeymoon  and  the  ragout  of 

220 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

mouse  we'd  eat  together  —  disgusting !  But 
finally  Miss  Carroll,  in  response  to  an  imploring 
glance  from  Henry,  had  the  happy  thought  of 
proposing  that  Victor  delight  the  company  with 
a  song. 

"  I've  heard  you  sing  the  coster-songs  most 
deliciously,  Mr.  Cobb.  And  I'll  play  your  accom- 
paniment. Is  it  a  bargain  ?" 

"  Sure  !"  Victor,  always  ready  to  show  off  his 
voice,  beamed  with  gratified  vanity.  Then,  turn- 
ing, "You  come,  Lili  ?" 

It  was  his  Sultan  look  and  tone.  I  stood  con- 
fused, daring  neither  to  follow  nor  to  stay  behind. 
But  Miss  Carroll,  the  dear  angel,  showed  herself 
a  champion  not  easily  defeated.  She  pouted 
enchantingly. 

"  No,  Mr.  Cobb,  you've  promised  to  sing  Dear 
Lizer  for  me,  and  this  time  it's  to  be  for  me  and 
not  for  your  fiancee.  I  don't  care  if  you  are 
jealous,  Mademoiselle.  Besides,  we  are  some- 
times said  to  look  alike ;  though  perhaps  I  flatter 
myself  too  horribly.  Would  it  be  too  much  of  a 
strain  to  make  the  illusion  for  five  minutes,  dear 
Mr.  Cobb  ?" 

"I'm  coming,  Victor!"  I  hastened  to  add. 
221 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

But  Miss  Carroll  had  already  borne  him  off, 
hypnotized. 

And  in  a  moment  the  doleful  strains  of  one  of 
those  abominable  London  songs  came  floating 
endlessly  from  a  distant  room.  The  other  people 
one  by  one  melted  away.  Henry  leaned  toward 
me. 

"  Listen,  Lili !  I  have  to  tell  you :  such  a 
contract  as  you  entered  into  with  Mrs.  Cobb,  and 
by  which  you  fancy  yourself  bound,  is  by  the  laws 
of  these  United  States  entirely  null  and  void  !" 

The  room  swam  around  me.  I  was  conscious 
of  Henry's  hand  upon  my  arm,  holding  me  up. 
"What?"  I  gasped.  "I'm  free?  You  mean, 
my  promise  doesn't  hold  me  ?  You  mean  — 
what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  mean,"  he  answered  slowly  and  distinctly, 
so  that  I  might  understand  every  word,  "  that 
such  an  agreement  as  you  describe  is  by  American 
law  utterly  illegal,  as  Mrs.  Cobb,  the  widow  of  a 
business  man  and  a  first-rate  business  woman 
herself,  they  say,  ought  to  have  known,  indeed, 
probably  did  know.  Did  you  never  hear,  Lili, 
of  the  Contract  Labor  Law  ?" 

"  No,"  I  answered,  shaking  my  head.  But  I 
222 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

clung  to  the  impressive  sounding  word  on  Henry's 
lips,  as  the  other  day  in  the  water  I  had  clung  to 
his  arm.  "  No,  I  never  did  ! " 

"  To  be  sure,  how  should  you  ?  But  here  in 
this  country,  Lili,  we  have  a  law  forbidding  an 
alien,  before  his  arrival  here,  to  enter  into  any 
contract  whatsoever  providing  for  his  employ- 
ment after  he  lands.  That  law,  Lili,  you  broke !" 

"Ah!"  I  shuddered.  In  the  very  thought 
of  the  law  in  any  country,  but  especially  in  a 
strange  one,  there  is  something  awful  and  impos- 
ing ;  and  the  idea  that  one  has  broken  it  —  Was 
I,  Lili,  a  lawbreaker  ?  In  proposing  to  keep  my 
word  and  carrying  out  an  obligation  more  repul- 
sive than  death,  was  it  possible  that  I  was  offend- 
ing the  laws  of  this  new  country  where  I  found 
myself,  which  already  I  loved  so  much  ?  Oh, 
dear  and  blessed  country  where  they  make  such 
laws !  Oh,  dear  and  happy  thought  which 
perhaps  was  to  set  me  free !  The  idea  glanced 
through  my  brain :  Mrs.  Stuart  was  right,  more 
right  than  Mrs.  Cobb  about  her  son,  when  she 
said  to  me  that  Henry  was  "  extraordinarily 
clever!"  I  began  to  speak  incoherently. 

"  What  ?  Is  it  true  ?  The  law  is  like  that,  is 
223 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

it  ?  A  contract  entered  into  before  landing  in 
America  ?  Yes,  certainly  we  hadn't  landed  yet ! 
But,"  a  cold  thought  struck  me,  "  you  spoke  of 
'  employment.'  I  just  promised  to  marry  Victor. 
Perhaps  that  wasn't  employment,  after  all." 
My  voice  trailed  away  and  broke  into  tears. 

"  For  the  employment  of  your  time,  for  the 
disposal  of  your  person,  in  return  for  a  pecuniary 
compensation  ?"  Henry  returned  with  violence. 
"  If  that's  not  a  contract  of  employment  in  its 
crudest  sense,  what  is  ?  You  yourself  own  there 
was  no  question  of  sentiment  on  either  side.  Did 
Mrs.  Cobb  invite  you  to  her  house,  offer  you 
protection  and  maintenance,  as  an  act  of  dis- 
interested friendship ;  and  then,  as  an  act  of 
friendship  on  your  part,  beg  you  to  lend  her  your 
social  influence,  and  offer  you  the  opportunity  of 
marriage  with  her  son  ?" 

I  shook  my  head.  "  No,  unless  I  gave  my  word 
of  honor  to  marry  Victor,  and  to  get  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth to  present  her  at  Court,  there  was  not  even 
question  of  my  entering  her  door.  But  then  I 
was  a  stranger  to  her  —  why  should  she  bother  — " 

Henry  interrupted  me  triumphantly.  "  You 
see !  All  the  qualities  of  a  contract,  in  their 

224 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

purest  form.  That  is,  the  special  action  on  each 
side  was  to  be  made  wholly  conditional  on  the 
performance  of  a  certain  specified  action  in  the 
other.  Unless  you  rendered  her  payment  by 
entering  her  house,  by  giving  her  the  disposal  of 
your  person,  name,  and  social  influence,  and  by 
marrying  her  son,  she  was  not  obliged  to  spend  a 
single  dollar  on  you.  And  you,  on  your  side, 
unless  she  paid  you  by  giving  you  your  main- 
tenance, —  that  is,  your  board,  clothing,  pocket 
money,  traveling  expenses,  etc.,  —  you  were  not 
to  be  obliged  — " 

"But,  oh,"  I  cried,  "she  has!"  In  spite  of 
my  agony  at  the  admission,  the  mere  necessity 
of  telling  the  truth  tore  the  words  from  me.  "  She 
has  !  She's  kept  her  word  to  the  last  letter  of 
it,  and  more !  Look !  These  pearls,  this  blue 
satin  dress,  she  gave  me  !  She  gave  me  my  home 
here,  my  beautiful  home,  the  automobiles  that  I 
go  out  in,  the  money  in  my  purse,  the  very  oppor- 
tunity to  meet  you  —  you  and  your  dear  mother  ! 
She's  kept  nothing  back,  not  even  her  only  son, 
which  she  thinks  the  finest  present  of  all !"  Be- 
neath the  tortured  touch  of  my  fingers,  I  felt  my 
little  lace  handkerchief  (another  present  from 

225 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Mrs.  Cobb;  value  a  hundred  francs)  dissolving 
its  fine-spun  meshes  into  shreds.  "Oh!"  I 
cried,  with  tears,  "  when  she  has  kept  her  part 
of  the  compact  to  the  very  letter,  how  can  I  refuse 
to  perform  mine  ?" 

"  For  that  very  reason,"  answered  Henry,  with 
intensity.  "  Because  the  very  fact  that  in  return 
for  what  you  have  received  from  her,  you  your- 
self have  a  pledged  duty  to  perform,  proves  the 
existence  of  a  contract  —  and  a  contract,  made 
in  such  circumstances  as  this  one,  is  legally  no 
contract  at  all ;  is,  in  fact,  in  and  of  itself,  a  grave 
offense  against  the  laws  of  this  land.  Darling, 
don't  you  understand  ?  The  promise  that  held 
you  is  no  promise  at  all.  Your  delicate  scruples 
that  do  you  so  much  honor  are  absolutely  without 
basis  in  fact.  You  are  free,  dearest.  Don't  you 
understand,  you  are  free  ?" 

I  stood  stupidly,  still  with  the  great  silver  and 
turquoise  ornament  dangling  from  my  hand. 
This,  then,  was  the  end  ?  The  strangling  mesh 
that  had  held  me  —  so  lightly,  so  easily  as  this  it 
was  to  be  thrown  off,  after  all  ?  Here,  then,  was 
the  goal  toward  which  for  so  many  sad  weeks  and 
by  so  many  tortuous  ways  I  had  been  traveling  ? 

226 


"  //  seemed  that  my  heart  had  stopped  beating."     Page  227. 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

After  all  the  philosophy  and  the  struggles  and  the 
tears,  this  was  what  had  been  waiting  for  me  all 
the  time  —  just  Henry  with  his  arms  outstretched  ? 
I  let  the  precious  lump  of  silver  go  crash  to  the 
floor,  and  held  out  my  two  hands  to  him  with  a 
little  cry. 

"  Oh,  I  love  you  !"  I  said.  Probably  it  wasn't 
right  for  me  to  speak  that  way,  before  he  had  said 
it.  But  I  couldn't  help  it,  it  was  the  truth. 
"  Oh,  I  love  you,  I  love  you  so  ! "  I  heard  myself 
gasping,  over  and  over  again. 

Henry  glanced  quickly  round.  In  the  long 
room  we  were  alone  together.  The  next  instant 
I  felt  his  arms  around  me,  just  like  the  other  day. 
But  this  time  there  was  no  icy  water  crawling 
between  us,  nothing  to  keep  us  apart  any  more. 
For  a  moment  he  held  me  close  —  so  close,  it 
seemed  that  my  heart  had  stopped  beating,  and 
my  lips  were  no  longer  mine,  but  his. 

Then,  with  a  long  sigh  that  seemed  to  tear  all 
the  breath  from  his  body,  he  released  me.  "  My 
beauty,"  he  said,  "  my  precious,  my  own,  my 
very  own  !  Then  it  is  settled,  this  other  miserable 
business  is  over  and  done  with,  and  you  marry 

me?" 

227 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Whether  it  was  the  law  he  had  just  expounded 
to  me,  or  just  the  wordless  influence  of  his  lips, 
that  tingled  through  my  body  like  a  strange 
drug,  I  cannot  tell  you.  But  my  will  power  ran 
from  me,  the  scruples  that  this  afternoon  had 
seemed  so  important  were  no  longer  more  than  an 
ancient  prejudice,  already  outgrown  and  for- 
gotten. In  my  whole  being  there  was  room  for 
no  more  than  one  gigantic  fact :  I  was  Henry's 
and  he  was  mine  !  My  very  arms  knew  him 
for  mine,  my  very  lips  claimed  him  !  Therefore, 
was  not  any  idea  which  might  keep  me  apart 
from  him  intrinsically  wrong  and  false  ? 

But  I  did  not  think  all  this;  I  only  felt  it. 
When  we  are  very  happy,  I  find  that  we  do  not 
think.  And  I  was  happy  at  last.  Oh,  divine 
revelation  !  Oh,  wild  and  tender  moment  when 
Henry  stood  there  beside  me  with  the  love  in  his 
eyes  and  bent  my  will  to  his  own  ! 

"  Lili,  say,  '  I've  been  a  little  fool !'" 

"  I've  been  a  little  fool,"  I  repeated  breath- 
lessly ;  then  added,  laughing  at  myself,  "  and 
it's  true,  too  !" 

"  Such  a  darling,  crazy  little  fool,  with  your 
scruples  and  your  talk  about  compacts  and 

228 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

promises  and  honor !  I'll  take  care  of  your 
honor  now,  my  little  Lili !  Listen,  to-night 
you'll  stay  here  with  my  mother  ?  And  to-morrow 
you'll  marry  me?" 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !"  I  cried,  and  my  laughter  changed 
to  a  sob  in  my  throat.  Too  much  !  Ah  !  was 
it  not  too  much,  if  at  the  end  of  my  long  search 
I  had  at  last  found  you,  my  husband,  and  you 
are  Henry,  after  all  ? 

'  Yes.  To-morrow  morning  we  will  telephone 
all  over  the  island,  if  need  be,  till  we  find  a  minis- 
ter to  marry  us,  and  a  priest  too,  if  you  wish, 
darling.  The  more  they  marry  us,  the  better ! 
Then  off  in  the  auto  —  our  auto,  you  remember 
it  ?  —  for  New  York.  Then  on  the  first  steamer 
that  has  places  vacant  for  us,  we  sail  for  France. 
You'll  like  that,  my  little  love  ?" 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !"  I  could  only  gasp.  He  was  too 
good  and  I  was  too  happy  ! 

"Then  that's  settled.  I'll  tell  Adams  imme- 
diately to  get  New  York  to-morrow  morning,  the 
very  instant  that  the  agency  opens,  to  engage  our 
suite.  And  in  New  York  you  can  buy  whatever 
you  need  for  your  trip.  For  you  keep  nothing, 
that's  understood,  that  that  woman  gave  you  !" 

229 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"Ah!  Mrs.  Cobb !"  I  began  to  tremble: 
the  mere  syllables  of  her  name  seemed  like  dread- 
ful teeth,  gnawing  and  crunching  the  flowers  of 
my  dream.  "  Oh,  Henry  !  I'm  so  afraid  !  Per- 
haps, after  all,  she  won't  let  you  — " 

"  She  won't  be  asked !"  He  towered  up, 
strong  and  splendid  enough  to  conquer  a  whole 
regiment  of  Mrs.  Cobbs  and  Victors,  too.  Oh, 
how  I  admired  him,  how  I  loved  him,  how  I 
wanted  him  !  And  he  was  mine  —  mine  ! 

"  Listen,"  he  said,  "  you'll  go  to  bed  imme- 
diately, please.  I'll  ask  my  mother  to  tell  the 
people  you  have  a  bad  headache  and  had  to  retire. 
Meanwhile  I'll  just  invite  Mrs.  Cobb  into  my  pri- 
vate study  and  explain  to  her  how  the  case  stands." 

"Ah!"  I  looked  at  him,  speechless  at  so 
much  bravery.  How  differently  he  spoke  from 
Victor  an  hour  ago  !  He  smiled  at  me. 

"  To  get  you,  my  beauty,  my  love,  I'd  fight 
Apollyon  himself;  so  with  the  law  on  my  side  I 
think  I  can  manage  poor  Mrs.  Cobb.  Of  course, 
I'll  explain  to  her  that  every  penny  she  has  spent 
on  you  shall  be  refunded,  down  to  these  cursed 
wedding  cards  and  the  wedding  cake  itself,  if 
she  has  ordered  it.  The  wedding  cake  !  —  damn  ! 

230 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

—  Excuse  me,  sweetheart,  but  I  think  I'm  a  little 
bit  off  my  head,  to-night !" 

He  stood  staring  at  me  with  a  kind  of  dazed 
look  in  his  eyes,  and  I  could  see  that  nothing  was 
farther  from  his  idea,  after  all,  than  saying 
good  night  and  letting  me  go.  But  the  hour  was 
growing  late,  our  absence  would  be  remarked, 
Mrs.  Cobb  would  be  coming  for  me  to  go  home  — 

"  Henry,"  I  implored  him,  "  please  get  it  over 
with.  Go  and  find  her  at  once  — " 

"  I'm  going,  dearest.  So  you  authorize  me  to 
speak  to  her  as  your  lawyer,  of  course  ?  For, 
naturally,  we  say  nothing  of  our  marriage  to- 
night. No,  that  comes  to  her  as  a  glad  surprise  !" 

"  As  you  like,  dear  Henry.  You  know  so 
much  better  than  I.  Look  how  I  have  bungled 
my  affairs  all  by  myself,  and  have  to  leave  you  to 
get  me  out !  But  at  once,  please  !" 

"  Very  well,  sweetheart.  Look  !  here's  a  door 
that  you  can  go  upstairs  by,  without  passing  all 
that  crowd.  I  say,  Fanny  Carroll's  a  corker, 
isn't  she  ?  It's  she  that's  kept  the  crowd  away 
and  given  us  this  chance  to  talk.  My  precious 
one,  my  adored  one  !  For  the  last  time  that  we 
shall  have  to  say  it  to  each  other,  good  night!" 

231 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

He  kissed  me,  opened  the  door,  and  I  fled  up- 
stairs. The  blood  was  pounding  in  my  ears, 
my  head  seemed  floating  off  in  a  kind  of  dim 
mist.  Poor  old  Genevieve,  who  had  made  all 
the  luggage  and  who  was  sitting  there  among  the 
valises  waiting  to  be  off,  was  amazed  at  my 
sudden  appearance  with  the  order  to  put  me  to 
bed  where  I  had  slept  for  the  last  two  nights. 
*  "  I  find  myself  a  little  unwell,  Genevieve.  We 
have  decided  that,  after  all,  it's  better  that  I 
sleep  here  to-night  and  leave  in  the  morning." 

For  Genevieve,  even  though  she's  a  dear  old 
thing,  was  not  a  person  to  be  taken  into  my 
confidence.  No,  our  beautiful  plans  should 
remain  a  secret  between  my  well  beloved  and 
me,  for  a  few  sweet  hours  yet. 

"  Give  me  a  peignoir,  Genevieve,  and  take 
down  my  hair." 

Ten  minutes  later,  as  I  was  lying  on  the  sofa, 
and  Genevieve  was  bathing  my  forehead  with 
Lily  of  the  Valley  water,  I  heard  a  light  tap  at 
my  door.  Was  it  Mrs.  Stuart  ?  Or  was  it  Mrs. 
Cobb,  forcing  herself  past  Henry's  explanations, 
coming  to  demand  me  with  all  her  natural  vio- 
lence ?  But  —  oh,  I  was  not  her  stupid  boy 

232 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Victor  to  be  bullied  as  she  chose  !  I  had  Henry 
on  my  side  ;  I  had  the  law  on  my  side  ;  and  I  was 
not  afraid  to  stand  up  for  my  rights  ! 

Meanwhile,  Genevieve  was  opening  the  door; 
and  to  my  surprise  not  one  form  but  two  sailed 
in,  one  in  lilac,  the  other  in  pale  gray.  But 
above  their  immaculate  dinner  toilettes,  Mrs. 
Stuart's  face  glowed  a  disfiguring  crimson,  Mrs. 
Cobb's  showed  an  odd  and  livid  white.  Sud- 
denly my  heart,  swelled  with  a  joy  and  courage 
so  immeasurable,  shrank  as  it  seemed  to  the  size 
of  a  pin  point.  I  heard  Mrs.  Cobb  speaking,  in 
a  voice  whose  sweetness  contrasted  oddly  with 
her  drawn  and  excited  look. 

"  Mrs.  Stuart,  I  thank  you  more  than  I  can 
tell  for  your  kindness  toward  this  dear  child, 
even  for  that  excess  of  goodness  which  fears  the 
effect  of  her  seeing  me.  But  I  can  assure  you  your 
fears  are  groundless.  Lili,  my  dearjittle  daughter, 
how  are  you  feeling  now  ?" 

With  the  most  affectionate  air  in  the  world, 
she  came  and  knelt  down  by  my  sofa ;  but  the 
face  she  bent  over  me  was  so  terrible  that  I 
closed  my  eyes. 

"Better,"  I  murmured;  "quite  well  now!" 
233 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  My  poor  darling  !  All  this  excitement,  this 
fatigue,  has  been  too  much  for  her.  Mrs.  Stuart, 
I  think  perhaps  you  were  right,  and  the  strain 
of  seeing  more  than  one  person  at  a  time  may  be 
too  much  for  her.  This  poor  little  girl  of  mine  ! 
Yes,  I  think,  Mrs.  Stuart,  that  you  were  entirely 
right." 

At  this  turning  against  her  of  her  own  guns, 
I  could  see  Mrs.  Stuart  blanch  and  bristle ;  but 
what  could  a  creature  gentle  and  sweet  as  she  do 
against  an  embodied  force  like  the  woman  who 
knelt  over  me?  "Oh,  stay!  stay!"  I  wanted 
to  cry  out  loud.  But  Mrs.  Cobb's  eyes  were 
on  me,  through  my  closed  lids  I  felt  them,  and  I 
dared  not  speak. 

"  Very  well  then,  for  five  minutes  !"  I  heard 
Mrs.  Stuart  say,  in  an  irresolute  tone.  The  next 
minute  I  heard  the  door  close  softly. 

"  Genevieve,  are  Mademoiselle's  trunks  ready  ?" 

The  manner  of  this  question,  this  contemptuous 
passing  over  of  me  and  my  possible  wishes,  roused 
my  spirit.  Throwing  off  my  old  nurse's  hand  and 
the  perfume-soaked  cloth,  I  sat  bolt  upright  with 
wide-open  eyes. 

"  No,  dear  Mrs.  Cobb.  I  have  decided  not  to 
234 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

go  home  to-night,  after  all.  You  see,  Mrs.  Stuart 
has  been  so  kind  as  to  — " 

"  Genevieve,  you  may  leave  the  room  !" 

Though  Mrs.  Cobb's  French  accent  might 
leave  some  room  for  doubt,  her  gesture  could  not. 
The  next  moment  we  were  alone.  And  Mrs. 
Cobb,  having  with  cautious  motions  opened  all 
the  doors  and  peered  without,  came  back  to  the 
sofa  again.  As  for  me,  I  remembered  the  tool- 
house  in  the  garden  and  braced  myself  to  fight 
for  my  rights.  This  indomitable  woman  should 
see  at  last  that  she  had  met  her  match  ! 

But  when  she  spoke,  it  was  in  a  quiet,  suppressed 
sort  of  voice. 

"  Lili,  I  can  see  that  you're  expecting  me  to 
make  a  scene,  just  as  Mrs.  Stuart  expected  when, 
an  instant  ago,  with  rather  misplaced  officious- 
ness,  she  tried  to  prevent  me  from  entering  your 
room.  I'm  not  going  to  make  a  scene,  my  dear 
child;  so  don't  clench  your  fists  and  roll  your 
big  black  eyes.  I'm  not  going  to  remind  you  of 
the  position  in  which,  by  your  desertion  of  us  in 
the  eleventh  hour,  you  place  my  son  and  me. 
We  discussed  that  fully  this  afternoon.  You 
know  as  well  as  I  do  the  ruin  that  you're  making ; 

235 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

so  we'll  leave  that  topic  alone.  I  have  come 
merely  to  ask  you  :  is  it  true,  this  story  that  I 
hear  now  from  Henry  Stuart,  who  tells  me  that 
he  acts  as  your  attorney  ?" 

Before  her  violence,  how  easily  I  had  defended 
myself  !  But  this  tragic  gentleness  cut  the  ground 
from  beneath  my  feet,  and  my  heart  quivered 
to  perceive  the  sudden  ageing  of  her  appearance. 
At  the  dinner  table  she  had  appeared,  as  usual, 
well  preserved,  discreetly  powdered,  almost 
young ;  but  now  —  what  an  old,  old  woman 
bent  her  bitter  face  above  me  ! 

"  So  it's  the  provisions  of  the  Contract  Labor 
Law,"  she  said,  "  that  release  you  from  your 
promise  to  me.  Very  ingenious,  upon  my  word, 
and  the  idea  reflects  tremendous  credit  upon  the 
legal  astuteness  of  young  Mr.  Stuart !  Only, 
you  see,  I  never  thought  of  being  clever.  If  I 
had,  I  might  have  had  articles  properly  drawn 
up  after  our  arrival  in  New  York,  and  regularly 
signed  and  sealed.  In  fact,  I  might  have,  done 
so  if  I  had  picked  you  up  out  of  the  steerage, 
and  engaged  you  as  my  cook ;  but,  you  see,  I 
took  you  for  a  lady,  and  I  didn't  ask  you  to  be 
my  cook  —  I  asked  you  to  be  my  daughter  — " 

236 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

It  was  not  so  easy,  after  all,  to  defend  my 
side  !  But  with  feeble  resolution  I  tried  to  parry 
some  of  her  accusations,  even  unspoken  :  — 

"  I  know,"  I  said,  "  that  according  to  your 
part  of  the  contract  you  have  spent  a  great  deal 
of  money  on  me.  That  money,  Mrs.  Cobb, 
shall  be  returned  to  the  last  centime.  And  the 
jewels  — "  I  began  pulling  at  the  huge  solitaire 
still  sparkling  on  my  hand. 

Her  face  burned  a  dull  red,  and  I  suddenly 
felt  a  new  emotion  —  shame.  Yes,  in  speaking  of 
the  money  I  had  put  myself  in  the  wrong,  and  the 
very  fact  that  she  kept  her  temper  before  such  an 
unnecessary  insult  served  only  to  render  my 
position  more  painful  and  more  bewildering. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  pay  me  back  the  money 
when  I  send  my  bill.  Till  then  please  remember 
that  I'm  a  lady  as  well  as  your  new  friend  Mrs. 
Stuart,  though  perhaps  my  blood  is  less  blue. 
As  for  the  things,  keep  them.  What  could  I  do 
with  them  ?  I  don't  wear  blue  any  more,  my 
child,  and  I  don't  wear  pearls.  And  the  diamond 
—  keep  that  too,  Lili,  to  remember  Victor  by ; 
that  is,  if  your  new  fiance  will  let  you.  For  I 
cannot  doubt  that  the  outcome  of  this  clever 

237 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

trick  will  be  you  will  marry  Mr.  Henry  Stuart. 
All  my  congratulations  to  him  and  to  his  mother 
for  the  brilliant  way  they  have  played  their 
cards  !  They've  carried  off  the  beauty  of  the 
season.  And  the  Duchess,  too,  when  she  arrives 
—  when  she  arrives  for  the  wedding !  The 
wedding  —  ah!"  She  caught  her  breath  like  a 
sob  in  her  throat.  "  My  poor  Victor  scorned 
and  refused  at  the  very  altar  !  Thrown  down 
publicly  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  !  Will 
he  ever  forgive  me  ?  Ah,  Lili,  between  the  two 
of  us  what  a  fool  we  have  managed  to  make  of 
my  poor  boy  !" 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  two  hands  and 
wept.  And  the  bitterness  of  her  heart  broke 
from  her  in  a  sudden  cry. 

"  Oh  !  it  serves  me  just  right  for  having  trusted 
to  a  Frenchwoman  !  " 

Ah  !  I  jumped  to  my  feet.  Now,  indeed,  she 
had  found  words  to  flick  me  on  the  raw  of  my 
skin  !  Through  the  whirl  of  my  exhausted  spirit, 
a  clear  train  of  thought  came  suddenly  forcing 
itself. 

So  I  had  imagined,  had  I,  that,  like  the  per- 
sonages in  those  modern  novels  that  my  Uncle 

238 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

Porthaven  at  Brent  forbade  me  to  read,  I  had 
changed  with  my  environment,  made  for  myself 
a  new  character  and  a  new  standard  of  action  ? 
Because  I  found  America  charming  and  delight- 
ful, I  thought  I  had  become  an  American  and 
forgotten  France  ?  I  had  left  behind  me  in 
France,  had  I,  all  those  worn-out  traditions,  all 
those  moldy  ideas  of  chivalry,  that  had  brought 
more  than  one  Vauquieres  to  a  perfectly  unneces- 
sary death,  that  quite  needlessly  had  stripped  my 
dear  papa  of  his  fortune  and  sent  his  daughter 
a  penniless  exile  to  wander  over  the  earth  ? 

Yes,  I  was  an  exile ;  but  —  the  realization  hit 
me  in  that  instant  like  a  stroke  —  I  was  still 
French,  still  a  Vauquieres.  My  hand  went  to 
my  locket,  which  on  its  long  thin  chain  hung  at 
my  neck.  Yes,  it  was  there,  with  its  bombastic 
medieval  motto,  giving  the  lie  to  reason,  to  all 
practical  modern  ideas,  to  American  law  and  its 
clear  logical  interpretation  that  so  short  a  time 
ago  had  convinced  my  understanding.  "  Vau- 
quieres tient  parole!" 

On  the  one  hand  stood  the  image  of  Henry  with 
love  in  his  eyes,  and  his  arms  held  out  to  me. 
On  the  other  side,  outside  of  reason,  or  logic,  or 

239 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

law,  was  just  my  word  —  my  word  that  I  had 
given.  What  would  papa  tell  me  to  choose  if  he 
were  here  ?  What  had  he  chosen  for  himself  ? 
The  law  had  not  bound  him ;  but  he  had  kept 
his  word  !  And  I  was  a  Vauquieres,  too. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Cobb  broke  the  silence.  "  Lili," 
she  said  in  a  voice  so  hollow  and  toneless  that  it 
sounded  as  though  she  were  very  far  away  or 
very  ill,  "  as  you  notice  I  make  no  scene.  I 
merely  remind  you  of  one  fact  that  no  legal  quibble 
could  alter,  and  it  is  this  :  you  gave  me  your  word 
of  honor,  and  I  accepted  it.  Now  that  the  time 
has  come,  are  you  going  to  keep  your  promise, 
or  are  you  going  to  break  it  ?" 

"7  am  going  to  break  it"  —  no,  my  lips  would 
not  form  the  words  :  they  choked  in  my  throat ; 
it  seemed  to  me  that  papa  was  listening  and  I 
could  not  say  them.  I  threw  up  my  head.  I  dare- 
say my  gesture  was  a  little  dramatic ;  but  —  oh, 
when  my  ancestors  marched  to  their  death,  at  least 
they  were  allowed  a  white  panache  and  a  drum  ! 

"  I  am  going  to  keep  my  promise  since  you 
claim  it,"  I  said.  "  And  now,  Mrs.  Cobb,  as 
soon  as  Genevieve  has  dressed  me,  will  you  please 

take  me  home  ?" 

240 


CHAPTER  XVII 

NOW  time  moves  forward  a  week  —  a  miser- 
able week.     And   Lili  —  miserable    Lili  — 
moves  from  Bar  Harbor  to  New  York. 

For  Mrs.  Cobb  it  was  an  epoch  of  triumph. 
The  wedding  presents  that  so  delighted  her  soul 
came  pouring  in  from  all  quarters  with  cards  that 
bore,  I  was  told,  the  most  aristocratic  names  in 
America.  As  to  my  own  side  of  the  ocean,  my 
Vauquieres  uncles  and  aunts  on  this  occasion  of 
my  marriage  with  a  millionaire  (though  they 
refused  to  cross  the  ocean)  came  forward  in  a 
very  fine  fashion  indeed.  A  beautiful  emerald 
pendant  (I  look  hideous  in  emeralds ;  but  no 
matter  —  it  came  from  Carrier's),  a  little  gold 
repeater,  a  jeweled  fillet  for  the  hair  —  now  that 
I  had  no  need  of  anything  any  more,  they  spent 
their  money  royally  for  me.  Ah  !  was  Mrs.  Cobb 
proud  of  these  gifts,  and  did  she  arrange  them 
where  none  could  pass  them  by,  —  "  Le  Marquis 
et  la  Marquise  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny "  — 

241 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  Comte  Dominique  de  Vauquieres  de  Clugny" 
— "  La  Duchesse  Donairiere  de  Brochefort," 
and  so  forth.  As  to  Aunt  Elizabeth,  she  was  to 
bring  her  presents  with  her.  It  was  to  meet  her 
that  we  went  to  New  York. 

She  was  to  arrive  with  Uncle  Porthaven  and  the 
three  older  girls  (the  younger  ones  were  left  at 
home  at  Brent)  on  the  sixth  of  August.  That 
evening  there  was  to  be  a  dinner  and  theater 
party  in  honor  of  the  new  arrivals,  with  a  supper 
afterwards  in  the  roof  garden  of  the  Waldorf. 
Then  we  were  all  to  go  at  once  to  the  Brunhilda, 
Mrs.  Cobb's  big  steam  yacht  moored  at  her  dock 
in  the  North  River,  and  to  start  early  the  next 
morning  for  Mount  Desert.  Then  the  evening 
of  the  ninth  there  was  to  be  a  formal  dinner  of 
great  magnificence  at  the  villa  at  Bar  Harbor,  in 
honor  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess.  Then  the  next 
day,  the  wedding  — 

But  I  didn't  think  of  that :  I  lived  in  a  kind  of 
dreadful  dream,  trying  to  let  each  minute  suffice 
to  its  own  pain,  without  thinking  of  to-morrow. 
I  had  done  what  was  right.  Mon  Dieu!  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  that  since  that  was  the 
reason  I  had  done  it.  But  just  the  same,  I  was 

242 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

tortured  by  romance,  and  by  self-reproach,  no 
less,  perhaps,  than  if  I  had  done  what  I  wanted  to. 
Wherever  I  went  I  was  haunted  by  the  image  of 
Mrs.  Stuart's  face  and  of  Henry's  ghastly  eyes, 
as,  with  head  downbent,  I  had  followed  Mrs.  Cobb 
from  their  house  on  that  last  terrible  night. 

What  did  they  think  of  me  ?  Would  they  ever 
understand  or  forgive  me  ?  I  did  not  know,  I 
had  no  word  from  them,  —  only  a  little,  little 
letter  from  Henry,  in  which  he  informed  me  that 
in  order  to  avoid  certain  coming  events  he  was 
leaving  Bar  Harbor;  and  then,  since  in  response 
to  his  telephone  message  of  the  other  night  a 
cabin  had  been  reserved  for  him  on  the  Lorraine, 
sailing  for  Havre  on  August  6,  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  use  it  even  under  the  altered  circum- 
stances and  leave  America  for  an  indefinite  period. 

Ah,  my  dear,  dear  Henry  —  leaving  his  home, 
leaving  America  alone,  without  even  his  mother ! 
Poor  Harriet !  I  had  repaid  her  badly  indeed 
for  all  her  kindness  to  me  and  for  the  long  fidelity 
of  her  spirit.  She  sent  me  a  beautiful  wedding 
present,  —  a  little  gold  writing  table,  style  Louis 
XV,  the  exact  reproduction,  quite  exact,  of  one 
that  had  belonged  to  papa.  Yes,  she  remembered. 

243 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

She  had  loved  too,  poor  Harriet;  but  no  more 
than  I  had  she  been  permitted  to  show  her  love 
and  her  fidelity  by  her  actions.  So  I  hoped  she 
might  understand  and  forgive  me. 

But  when  Mrs.  Cobb  and  I  in  our  limousine 
met  her  in  her  carriage  in  the  promenade  (I  forget 
its  name)  above  the  sea,  she  gave  me  only  a  little 
pale  nod  before  turning  away  her  head.  Ah ! 
it  was  the  mother  in  her  that  could  not  forgive 
me,  I  understood  that;  while  the  other  mother 
by  my  side  made  a  little  satisfied  noise  in  her 
throat  like  a  hen  clucking  over  her  chicks.  When 
I  arrived  home,  I  threw  myself  face  downward  on 
my  bed  and  lay  there  for  a  long  time ;  because  it 
seemed  to  me  that,  if  I  moved  or  even  thought, 
my  heart  must  crack  and  break. 

As  to  Victor,  I  am  bound  to  own  that  in  these 
days  he  behaved  very  decently;  though  now,  as 
the  wedding  approached,  he  took  toward  me,  in 
public,  pompous  airs  of  ownership  that  might 
have  made  me  laugh  —  had  they  not  made  me 
crawl.  Though  when  we  were  alone  together,  he 
spoke  but  little;  and  on  our  dash  to  New  York 
on  the  yacht,  when  he  was  not  in  the  pilot  house 
or  bullying  the  sailors,  he  sat  for  the  most  part 

244 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

silent  and  immovable,  with  his  horrid  little  pipe 
between  his  teeth.  In  the  deeds  of  the  property 
that  his  mother  was  conveying  him,  he  had 
exacted  the  Brunhilda  as  part  of  his  share;  and 
was  already  planning  a  wedding  trip  to  the 
South  Sea  Islands.  I  didn't  care,  though  the 
sea  made  me  feel  very  ill  most  of  the  time.  In 
those  southern  seas  I  know  there  are  monsoons 
and  typhoons  and  other  monstrous  winds  that 
may  do  our  business  any  day  and  the  sharks 
finish  us.  The  idea  is  a  genial  one  —  the  only 
one  of  the  kind  I've  had  these  latter  days. 

So  we  arrived  in  New  York  and  went  to  the 
dock  in  an  automobile  (still  another  one,  that 
Mrs.  Cobb  leaves  in  her  city  garage)  to  meet 
my  family.  According  to  the  preliminary  arrange- 
ment by  cable,  the  Duchess  had  accepted  the 
cabins  de  luxe  offered  by  my  future  mother-in-law, 
and  was  arriving  by  the  Mauretania  with  her 
husband  and  daughters. 

On  the  dock,  it  was  hot  enough  to  roast  chest- 
nuts on  top  of  our  parasols.  But  there  we  had 
to  wait  three  long  hours  in  the  sun;  because, 
owing  to  a  strike  of  the  men  who  load  the  cargoes 
and  freight  and  things  like  that  on  the  steamers, 

245 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

there  had  been  a  delay  in  the  last  steamer  sailing, 
and  the  poor  Mauretania  had  to  wait  before  she 
could  get  into  her  dock.  Such  mountains  of 
boxes  and  barrels  and  bales  of  cotton  as  there  were 
piled  all  around  us,  with  the  company's  officers 
and  policemen  trying  to  push  them  about,  and 
people  scolding  because  their  friends  couldn't 
land,  and  Mrs.  Cobb  raving  at  the  top  of  her 
voice,  and  threatening  to  sue  the  company  — 
so  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of 
the  other  people  around  us,  at  least,  that  we  had 
come  to  meet  a  Duchess.  However,  in  spite  of 
everything,  the  wait  came  to  an  end  at  last. 
Mrs.  Cobb  had  a  permit  so  we  walked  aboard. 
And  there  was  Aunt  Elizabeth  ! 

It's  all  very  well  to  criticise  your  relatives  and 
make  fun  of  them,  and  even  run  away  from  them ; 
but  your  own  blood,  you  know  —  that's  some- 
thing !  And  when  you  see  your  own  people  again 
in  a  foreign  land,  after  not  seeing  them  for  a  long 
time  —  why,  a  great  lump  comes  into  your 
throat,  and  when  you  feel  their  arms  around  you, 
you  feel  as  though  you  had  come  home  !  When 
Aunt  Elizabeth  kissed  me,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  never  been  grateful  to  her  or  loved  her 

246 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

enough.  Then  came  Uncle  Porthaven  and  the 
girls ;  as  they  crowded  around  me,  kissing  me 
and  telling  me  how  pretty  I  looked,  and  congratu- 
lating me  on  my  fine  marriage,  why,  in  the  joy 
of  finding  myself  among  my  own  again,  I  almost 
forgot  for  just  a  minute  —  almost,  but  not  quite 
—  the  sore  heart  I  carried.  Ah,  if  all  this  fuss 
and  these  happy  arrivals  had  been  for  my  marriage 
with  Henry ! 

However,  I  had  little  time  to  think.  The 
customs  men  were  coming  up  with  their  annoying 
questions,  and  the  captain  was  paying  his  compli- 
ments to  the  Duke,  and  the  passengers  were 
edging  up  trying  to  say  good-by  to  the  Duchess, 
and  getting  frozen  stares  through  an  eyeglass. 
She  looked  just  the  same  Aunt  Elizabeth,  with 
her  old  tweed  skirt  hitched  up  slightly  in  front, 
her  large  jacket  with  pockets  like  a  man,  and  her 
little  felt  hat  with  a  priceless  veil  of  Chantilly 
about  it.  The  girls,  however,  appeared  very 
well.  Portia  in  a  gown  of  raspberry  pink,  Muriel 
in  pale  olive  green,  Ermentrude  in  white,  slightly 
soiled  as  usual.  Though  their  noses  were  still 
large,  their  complexions,  after  the  American 
pallor,  looked  amazingly  fresh  and  lovely.  And 

247 


HER   WORD   OF  HONOR 

as  they  huddled  together  in  that  frightened  way 
of  the  English  young  lady  of  quality  around  their 
imposing  mamma,  it  must  be  owned  that  they 
had  a  certain  air  of  being  somebody,  that  one  does 
not  see  every  day. 

"  So  your  new  husband  doesn't  show  yet, 
Lili  ?"  said  Aunt  Elizabeth,  looking  about  through 
her  gold  eyeglass. 

"  No,  Aunt  Elizabeth.  You  see,  he  —  he  felt 
a  little  shy  about  intruding  on  our  first  meeting. 
But  he  will  call  on  you  at  your  hotel  this  after- 
noon to  pay  his  respects." 

"Ah!     Charmin'  young  man,  I  suppose?" 

As  Mrs.  Cobb  was  listening,  I  could  answer 
nothing  less  than  "  Oh,  charming  !" 

"  Hm  !     Millionaire,  you  said  ?" 

"  Yes,  your  Grace,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Cobb, 
fluttered  as  I  had  never  seen  her  at  this  flesh- 
and-blood  presence  of  a  real  Duchess.  "  On  the 
morning  of  my  dear  boy's  marriage  I  sign  articles 
conveying  to  him  property  to  the  amount  of 
twenty-five  million  dollars." 

"  Dollars  !  Why  not  pounds  ?  How  much  is 
a  dollar,  anyway  ?" 

"  Four  shillings  and  twopence,  your  Grace  !" 
248 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

"  Dear  me  !  Why  can't  you  just  make  it  the 
round  four  shillin's,  without  stoppin'  every  time 
to  bother  over  that  extra  tuppence  ?  William, 
how  much  is  twenty-five  million  dollars  in  real 


money 


Uncle  Porthaven's  voice,  usually  so  languid, 
took  on  tones  of  unaffected  interest  as  he  replied 
with  the  imposing  figure,  "  Five  millions  sterlin', 
my  dear !" 

"  Ah,  not  bad  !  Not  bad  at  all !  And  of  this 
sum,  I  suppose  a  fittin'  portion  will  be  settled 
by  marriage  articles  on  my  dear  niece.  How- 
ever, we  will  speak  of  that  later.  My  dears, 
here  is  the  gang  plank.  Be  careful  of  the  gang 
plank.  Muriel,  you  are  toein'  in  as  usual ! 
Portia,  hold  up  your  head  !" 

On  the  drive  home  in  the  automobile  she  con- 
fided to  me  that  she  had  come  to  America  with 
the  intention  of  leaving  the  two  elder  girls  at  least 
behind  her  in  America.  To  be  sure,  the  idea 
was  a  painful  one;  but  beggars  couldn't  be 
choosers.  There  was  no  blinkin'  the  fact  that 
Portia  had  been  out  eight  years  and  Muriel  six, 
with  no  takers  offerin'  but  a  curate  or  two,  and  a 
peer  whose  name  was  quite  impossibly  damaged 

249 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

through  bein'  lent  too  often  to  fly-blown  ventures 
in  the  city. 

"  Money,  my  dear,  much  money,  is  what  my 
poor  girls  must  have,  even  if  we  have  to  resign 
ourselves  to  Americans.  Your  fiance,  now  — 
hasn't  he  a  great  many  friends  among  rich  young 
men,  my  dear  ?" 

So  I  delighted  Aunt  Elizabeth's  heart,  and 
made  Portia,  who  was  in  the  middle  seat  be- 
tween us,  beam  from  ear  to  ear,  with  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  half-dozen  bachelors  of  unimpeachable 
name  and  immense  fortunes  who  had  accepted 
Mrs.  Cobb's  invitation  to  the  theater  party  to- 
night and  the  return  cruise  on  the  yacht. 

"The  yacht!"  repeated  my  aunt,  with  satis- 
faction. "  Do  you  hear  that,  Portia  ?  Much 
can  be  done  on  a  yacht  —  much.  Well,  well, 
Lili,  to  think  of  my  little  wild  French  girl  turnin' 
out  so  splendidly,  after  all !" 

So  we  left  them  at  the  St.  Regis,  where  Mrs. 
Cobb  had  retained  a  royal  suite  for  the  family. 
Her  own  house,  opened  only  temporarily,  was  be- 
tween the  hands  of  florists  and  decorators  for  the 
evening's  entertainment,  and  hence  not  in  condi- 
tion to  receive  guests  of  such  august  importance. 

250 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Aunt  Elizabeth,  however,  waving  aside  her  apolo- 
gies and  explanations,  seemed  delighted  with  the 
hotel  accommodations  thus  offered  her.  And, 
though  she  had  done  nothing  as  we  crossed  the 
city  but  make  uncomplimentary  remarks  about 
the  heat,  the  elevated  trains,  and  the  skyscrapers, 
still  she  seemed  extremely  pleased  with  the  situa- 
tion as  a  whole.  Never  indeed  had  I  seen  her 
so  amiable. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Lili.  You  have  done  well 
for  yourself.  Your  new  mother-in-law,  in  spite 
of  various  little  crudities,  seems  a  thoroughly 
presentable  person.  If  her  son  is  only  half  as 
decent  a  sort,  then  he'll  do.  And,  after  all, 
what  does  that  matter,  since  he  has  the  money  ? 
Five  million  sterlin'  !  Very  decent,  indeed.  If 
my  poor  girls  can  only  do  as  well,  I  shall  be  con- 
tent. So  now  good-by  till  this  evenin',  Lili. 
You've  done  very  well  indeed,  and  I  approve 
you  thoroughly.  And  —  er  —  God  bless  you!" 

She  added  this  benediction  as  a  rather  super- 
fluous thought  after  her  own  approval  was  given. 
And,  jumping  from  the  automobile  with  surpris- 
ing agility  for  one  of  her  weight,  she  gathered  her 
daughters  about  her  and  swept  into  the  hotel. 

251 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Reporters,  who  had  followed  the  limousine  in 
hired  taximeters,  swarmed  after  her  with  their 
little  notebooks.  Uncle  Porthaven,  tall  and  im- 
posing in  his  gray  traveling  suit  and  gray  mustache, 
brought  up  the  rear.  Mrs.  Cobb,  looking  after 
them  as  the  hotel  door  swallowed  them  up,  sank 
back  on  the  cushions  with  a  sigh  of  utter  content. 

"  Every  inch  the  Duchess,  isn't  she  !  And  to 
think  she's  my  guest  —  mine!"  Then,  after  a 
few  minutes'  silent  rumination  of  so  much  bliss, 
she  added,  just  like  Aunt  Elizabeth,  "  God  bless 
you,  Lili!" 

After  so  many  benedictions,  I  ought  to  have 
been  happy,  oughtn't  I  ?  But  —  oh,  He  seemed 
to  have  ordained,  the  good  God,  that  I  should 
be  the  instrument  of  delight  and  satisfaction  to 
every  one  except  to  those  whose  sorrow  was  my 
sorrow,  and  whose  joy  would  have  been  my  joy. 
And,  knowing  that  they  were  sad,  and  sad  for  me, 
what  good  could  I  get  from  all  the  kblessings  in 
the  world  ? 

So,  when  we  arrived  home,  I  just  pretended  a 
headache,  and  locked  my  bedroom  door  for  the 
afternoon.  The  weather  was  so  oppressively 
hot  my  excuse  was  a  believable  one.  So  there 

252 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

in  the  safe  shelter  of  my  bedroom,  I  just  threw 
myself  on  my  bed  and  behaved  more  foolishly 
than  I  shall  ever  own  even  to  myself. 

For  that  my  suffering  was  perfectly  illogical 
and  foolish  I  will  never  deny.  Even  one  that 
has  never  tried,  like  me,  to  pin  down  her  flighty 
feminine  intellect  on  a  sound  philosophical  basis, 
could  have  realized  that.  For,  after  all,  what  I 
was  doing  was  by  my  own  free  will,  was  it  not  ? 
So,  having  chosen  to  keep  my  honorable  word, 
why  could  I  not  be  satisfied  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  doing  right  and  resign  myself  to  the  dis- 
agreeable things  that  right  doing  always  brings  ? 
And  in  this  case  there  were  so  many  agreeable 
things  besides !  Why,  then,  did  I  look  back, 
look  back  ever  down  the  path  by  which  I  had 
come,  and  long  to  retrace  my  footsteps,  and  sigh  ? 
Sigh  ?  That's  not  the  word !  Cry  out  loud, 
and  kick  the  bed  with  my  feet  like  a  wicked  child  ? 
My  pillow  was  soaked  in  tears,  my  handkerchief 
was  torn  to  shreds,  my  hands  were  covered  with 
toothmarks  where  I  had  stuffed  them  into  my 
mouth  and  bitten  them  to  keep  from  crying 
"  Henry  !  Henry  !"  aloud  with  all  my  force. 

Ah,  sad,  sad  hours  ! 

253 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BUT  the  will  has  its  force  too,  when  we  know 
that  what  we  have  to  do  is  something  that 
must  be  done.  So  when  Genevieve  came  to  dress 
me  at  six  o'clock  (we  are  to  dine  early,  for  the 
play  afterwards),  she  found  me  very  calm  and 
collected,  polishing  my  nails  with  the  huge  silver 
buffer  that  Portia  brought  me.  So  she  dressed 
me  most  beautifully  in  a  new  frock,  of  course 
virginal  white,  all  Valenciennes  and  convent  em- 
broidery, and  with  all  my  pearls.  The  pearls  are 
as  big  as  pebbles,  and  the  rope  hangs  to  my  knees. 
Mrs.  Cobb,  I  know,  paid  a  fortune  to  have  them 
so  perfectly  matched  and  in  so  short  a  time.  Aunt 
Elizabeth,  examining  them  later,  held  her  breath 
for  an  awed  instant,  then  burst  out  in  ecstasies. 
From  that  moment  she  was  Mrs.  Cobb's  sworn 
ally. 

"You  lucky  girl,  Lili !"  said  Muriel,  with  a 
slightly  pinched  expression. 

While  Portia,  putting  up  her  glass  in  imitation 
254 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

of  her  mamma,  was  good  enough  to  add  :  "  He's 
not  at  all  bad,  you  know,  your  fiance  —  for  an 
American." 

For  Portia,  as  I  knew,  this  was  enthusiasm. 
And  a  few  moments  later,  entering  the  ballroom 
that  Mrs.  Cobb  had  had  transformed  into  a  kind 
of  garden,  they  exploded  together  into  unrestrained 
applause :  — 

"  Oh,  I  say,  mamma,  look  at  these  orchids  ! 
They're  not  half  bad,  you  know  !" 

"  And  this  fountain  playin'  in  the  middle  — 
odd  taste;  but  still,  for  this  warm  weather,  I 
must  admit  it's  rather  jolly  !" 

To  their  criticisms  as  to  their  praise,  Mrs. 
Cobb  listened  with  the  same  beatified  smile. 
The  decorations  were,  in  fact,  charming. 
Flowers  covered  the  walls,  interspersed  with 
twinkling  electric  lights ;  while  the  fountain, 
with  its  floating  lumps  of  ice  and  the  electric 
fans  playing  overhead,  gave  an  artificial  freshness 
to  the  air.  Every  one,  in  fact,  was  brisk,  gay, 
and  in  the  best  of  spirits  —  even  Lili.  After 
all,  as  there  were  perhaps  other  people  there  who 
carried  a  sore  heart  under  their  smiles,  need  I 
take  much  credit  to  myself  for  that  ? 

255 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

The  company  numbered  about  twenty-five ; 
all,  as  Mrs.  Cobb  had  devoutly  remarked,  being 
the  very  quintessence  of  the  Social  Register, 
healthy,  handsome,  and  with  the  nicest  manners 
in  the  world. 

The  dinner  was  a  great  success.  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth's present  to  me,  a  cashmere  shawl  that  her 
late  Majesty  had  presented  to  her,  was  duly 
displayed  and  admired.  And  the  Duchess  her- 
self, though  she  exclaimed,  "  Well,  really  now, 
how  very  American  !"  to  every  new  production 
of  Mrs.  Cobb's  Paris  chef  as  it  was  served,  still 
gave  indubitable  signs  of  enjoying  herself  im- 
mensely. Best  of  all,  the  young  man  that  Mrs. 
Cobb  had  placed  by  Lady  Portia  seemed  much 
taken  with  the  frosty  charms  of  his  neighbor. 
And,  to  tell  the  truth,  never  have  I  seen  her  look 
so  well ;  with  her  hair  actually  arranged  in  the 
style,  a  little  powder  on  her  sunburned  nose,  and 
a  pale  blue  dress  that  made  her  neck  look  as 
white  as  snow. 

Aunt  Elizabeth,  having  cross-examined  Mrs. 
Cobb  in  an  audible  whisper,  and  having  learned 
that  the  young  man's  two  sisters  had  respectively 
become  an  Italian  Princess  and  a  French  Mar- 

256 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

quise,  and  that  he  himself  was  undoubted  posses- 
sor of  who  knows  how  many  gold  mines,  railroads, 
and  steamship  lines,  beamed  on  the  interesting 
pair  with  the  most  happy  augury.  Uncle  Port- 
haven  told  the  gentlemen  around  him  all  about 
what  was  the  matter  with  American  politics, 
and  applied  himself  with  flattering  energy  to 
Mrs.  Cobb's  champagne.  Even  Victor,  with 
whom  Muriel  coquetted  in  the  giddiest  way, 
woke  up  in  a  surprising  manner;  and  as  we  rose 
from  the  table  he  actually  proposed  to  his  mother 
that  instead  of  taking  supper  at  the  Waldorf 
roof  garden  after  the  play  we  should  go  to  an- 
other, a  new  one,  about  twenty  stories  higher 
in  the  air,  and  where,  as  he  phrased  it,  there  was 
"  something  doing." 

"  I  know  what  you  mean  !"  says  Muriel.  "  Oh, 
you  naughty  man,  you  !" 

"  Please,  Lady  Muriel,  be  careful !  Don't 
give  me  away  before  Lili,  you  know  !" 

Yes,  we  appeared  quite  the  model  fiances. 
In  the  most  obliging  way  in  the  world  I  acceded  to 
his  change  of  project.  But,  after  all,  what  should 
I  have  cared  if  he  had  proposed  to  take  out  the 
whole  crowd  of  us  in  the  Brunhilda,  and  knock  in 

257 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

the  bottom  with  an  ax  ?  Indeed,  it's  possible 
that  this  last  idea  would  have  pleased  me  best 
of  all ;  for  I  heard  a  gentleman  near  me,  discuss- 
ing American  strikes  with  Uncle  Porthaven,  tell 
him  that  owing  to  the  strike  of  the  wharf  laborers, 
the  Lorraine  had  not  been  able  to  sail  this  morn- 
ing, and  perhaps  was  not  leaving  her  dock  until 
the  evening. 

The  Lorraine !  Ah,  Henry's  ship  !  To  go  and 
make  an  end  in  the  water  in  which  he  floated, 
to  sink  deep,  deep  down  in  the  cool  water  from 
which  he  had  plucked  me  once,  and  where  he 
would  now  doubtless  let  me  find  the  end  I  de- 
served —  would  it  not  be  a  happy  termination 
to  all  my  troubles,  after  all  ?  However,  I  had 
not  much  time  for  these  reflections.  The  auto- 
mobiles were  at  the  door,  and  with  laughter,  and 
much  fluttering  of  lace  cloaks,  we  all  set  out  for 
the  theater. 

It  wasn't  a  real  play,  after  all,  but  a  kind  of 
revue,  with  songs  and  ballets  and  comedians  that 
made  every  one  laugh ;  though,  to  tell  the  truth, 
people  seemed  to  laugh  more  at  what  they  said 
themselves  than  at  what  was  going  on  on  the 
stage.  The  poor  actors  came  and  went  quite 

258 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

unnoticed,  while  Aunt  Elizabeth  discoursed  on  the 
education  of  the  American  girl,  and  in  the  back 
of  the  next  box  Portia  and  the  brother  of  the  Prin- 
cess put  their  heads  together  and  whispered  most 
absorbedly.  Every  one,  in  fact,  was  giggling,  flirt- 
ing, and  calling  pleasantries  from  one  box  to  an- 
other, like  a  lot  of  children  on  a  school  treat. 

And  poor  Henry,  all  alone,  sailing  out  of  the 
harbor  at  this  moment,  looking  back  —  who 
could  tell  ?  —  toward  the  city  where  Lili  sat  and 
amused  herself  without  him. 

However,  there  was  one  consolation,  and  that 
was,  it  didn't  last  long ;  for,  having  sat  too  long 
over  dinner,  we  arrived  in  time  only  for  the  last 
act.  So,  when  it  was  finished  at  last,  with  the 
same  laughter  we  returned  to  the  waiting  auto- 
mobiles ;  which,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell 
about  it,  had  transported  us  to  the  new  roof 
garden  so  highly  recommended  by  my  fiance. 
Then,  with  the  same  dispatch,  amid  Aunt  Eliza- 
beth's grave  rumble  of  remonstrance  and  Muriel's 
giddy  little  screams,  we  were  whisked  to  the  top 
by  electric  elevators  that  made  the  forty-five 
stories  in  half  as  many  seconds,  and  gave  you  a 
funny  feeling  in  the  pit  of  your  stomach. 

259 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

My  head  was  still  giddy  as  I  stepped  out  in  the 
roof  garden  —  how  different  from  what  I  ex- 
pected. What  a  strange,  strange  place !  An 
effort  seemed  to  have  been  made  to  transform  it 
into  something  human  and  natural.  All  about 
there  was  a  jungle  of  tall,  potted  palms ;  and  on 
a  little  stage  arranged  at  one  end  a  band  of 
singers  in  toreador  costume  sent  their  voices 
ineffectually  up  against  the  stars. 

How  close  they  were,  the  stars  !  How  sadly  it 
sighed,  the  night  wind  whose  freshness,  after  the 
sultry  streets  below,  sent  a  little  thrill  to  one's 
very  bones  !  Yes,  the  place  had  a  thrill  in  it, 
something  that  defied  laughter  as  it  defied  rea- 
son, and  left  everyday  life  far  away  in  the  city 
beneath  us.  The  occupants  of  the  other  tables, 
for  the  most  part  tired-looking  business  men  with 
siphons  of  soda  and  bottles  of  whisky  before  them, 
seemed  to  feel  the  fantastic  influence  of  the  place 
as  well  as  I.  Even  in  our  own  merry  party,  the 
gayety  had  become  suddenly  veiled  and  vague. 
Portia  and  her  devoted  admirer  whispered  to- 
gether. Aunt  Elizabeth  pursued  her  unending 
discourse  on  the  American  girl.  Victor,  who  ap- 
peared much  excited,  ordered  about  the  waiters 

260 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

and  abused  the  performance  on  the  stage.  But 
otherwise  conversation  had  lapsed  strangely; 
while  the  harsh  voices  of  the  singers,  mingled  with 
the  dry  rattle  of  their  wooden  clappers,  melted 
away  mournfully  into  the  hollow  vault  of  the 
night.  In  fact,  in  this  disquieting  neighborhood 
of  infinity  the  music  was  so  far  defeated  from  its 
original  intention  of  gayety,  that  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  number  the  resulting  silence  almost 
restored  its  life  to  the  withered  conversation : 
to  be  nipped  again,  however,  as  five  minutes 
later  the  little  orchestra  again  uttered  its  pre- 
liminary wail. 

Suddenly  I  saw  Victor,  who  since  our  arrival 
here  had  seemed  strangely  excited,  half  rise  from 
his  chair  and  then  sit  down  again.  From  his  pink 
sunburned  face  the  blood  had  ebbed,  leaving  it 
pale  beneath  its  freckles.  Following  his  eyes,  I 
turned  my  head.  There  on  the  little  stage  be- 
fore us,  with  her  yellow  head  sharply  silhouetted 
against  the  dark  background  of  palms,  stood 
Miss  Fay  Martin. 

Cautiously  I  glanced  round  our  grouping 
tables.  No  one  besides  Victor  and  me  —  so 
much  was  sure  —  had  recognized  the  singer. 

261 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Mrs.  Cobb,  deep  in  conversation  with  her  new 
friend  the  Duchess,  could  not  spare  a  glance  to 
notice  her  beloved  boy's  agitation.  The  others, 
if  they  perceived  anything  amiss,  naturally  at- 
tributed any  slight  disorder  to  the  champagne 
which  the  host,  according  to  his  genial  custom, 
had  absorbed  freely  during  the  evening.  So  I 
alone  of  all  the  company  understood  why  our 
destination  had  been  changed  from  the  roof 
garden  of  the  Waldorf  to  this  other,  where  the  air 
was  higher  and  the  entertainment  so  much  more 
amusing ;  though  certainly,  if  Victor  had  expected 
gratification  either  to  his  feelings  or  to  his  curi- 
osity, one  could  read  in  his  disturbed  face  that  for 
his  own  enjoyment  he  had  gone  a  bit  too  far. 

On  the  stage  Fay  began  her  song.  Though  as 
a  usual  thing  I  can't  understand  English  when  it 
is  sung,  still  her  diction  was  very  clear  and  sharp, 
like  her  voice.  So  the  words  came  to  me  dis- 
tinctly; sentimental  words  they  were,  all  about 
some  one  who  had  given  some  one  else  a  little 
silver  ring  and  then  the  person  had  proved  false 
and  the  first  one  was  dying  of  a  broken  heart, 
and  so  on.  It  was  evident  that  Victor  under- 
stood the  words,  too ;  for  his  face  changed  from 

262 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

white  to  red,  his  very  eyes  changed  color  as  though 
he  were  going  to  cry.  Like  a  child  watching  a 
show  of  marionettes,  he  sat  with  his  gaze  fixed 
on  the  singer,  and  never  noticed  even  when  the 
waiter  put  lobster  on  his  plate  and  filled  up  his 
glass  with  wine. 

On  the  stage,  I  must  own  that  the  young  singer 
made  a  sufficiently  charming  figure,  with  her 
blonde  head  shining  against  the  dark  background 
of  palms.  Her  white  dress,  made  high  in  the 
neck  and  with  no  trimming  but  a  pink  ribbon 
sash,  gave  her  a  very  innocent,  youthful  sort  of 
look,  very  different  from  the  day  she  had  come  to 
inspect  me  at  Bar  Harbor. 

Then  I  perceived  one  rather  startling  fact,  — 
her  large,  shining  eyes  were  fixed  directly  upon 
Victor,  whose  agitation,  whether  due  to  self- 
consciousness  or  to  genuine  emotion,  was  every 
moment  increasing.  And  it  was  at  him,  directly 
to  him  out  of  all  her  languid  or  distracted  audi- 
ence, that  she  sang  her  woeful  chanson,  in  a  voice 
that  ran  with  tears  :  — 

"  When  I  at  last  shall  lie  all  pale  amid  the  roses, 
I  would  that  on  my  withering  finger  should  be 
The  little  silver  ring  that  once  thou  gavest  me." 
263 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Thus  the  song  came  to  its  mournful  end.  On 
the  last  word,  as  she  turned  to  leave  the  stage,  she 
lifted  her  hand  with  a  sudden  passionate  gesture 
and  kissed  the  ring  that  sparkled  upon  it.  The 
next  instant  she  had  vanished,  followed  by  a 
little  faint  applause.  And  I  heard  Victor's  voice, 
in  a  quick  breath  that  was  barely  audible :  — • 

"Good  Lord!     My  ring!" 

To  do  him  justice,  it  wasn't  any  cheap  little 
silver  ring,  but  an  enormous  diamond,  as  large  as 
mine  or  bigger.  I  glanced  around.  Not  a  soul 
but  me  had  noticed  the  little  interlude.  With  a 
sigh  that  seemed  as  though  it  would  burst  the 
buttons  of  his  white  brocade  waistcoat,  he  turned 
to  the  lobster  on  his  plate.  But  it  was  evident 
that  the  pathetic  image  conjured  up  by  Fay's 
last  words  still  followed  him :  he  ate  listlessly 
and  had  need  of  frequent  recourse  to  the  cham- 
pagne. How  I  despised  him  at  that  moment, 
this  man  who  was  to  be  my  husband  ! 

Under  the  pleasing  influence  of  supper,  the 
conversation  had  taken  a  brisk  reaction  from  the 
depressing  neighborhood  of  the  stars.  At  the 
little  table  that  made  the  center  of  our  group, 
Aunt  Elizabeth  was  holding  forth  in  a  loud  voice, 

264 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

just  as  she  always  did  when  we  had  people  from 
Brentpool  to  dinner  at  the  castle. 

"  Ermentrude,  my  dear,  take  some  of  the 
salad.  It's  not  half  so  nasty  as  it  looks.  But 
the  lobster,  though  it's  fresh,  —  yes,  it  seems 
quite  fresh,  —  is  incorrectly  cooked.  You  broil 
a  porterhouse,  my  dear  Mrs.  Cobb ;  not  a  lobster. 
A  lobster  should  be  potted,  with  a  great  deal  of 
melted  butter,  allspice,  cloves,  and  pepper  — 
much  pepper.  Portia,  my  love,  you  remember 
the  excellent  potted  lobster  that  we  ate  at  the 
little  inn  on  the  hill  near  Eastbourne  last 
summer  ?" 

For  once  in  her  life,  however,  Portia  was  too 
absorbed  to  answer  her  imposing  mamma's  query ; 
for  the  brother  of  the  Princess,  it  was  plain,  had 
met  his  fate.  His  wine  remained  untouched  in 
its  glass,  he  leaned  toward  her  with  hypnotized 
gaze,  drinking  in  her  words  as  a  good  communi- 
cant accepts  the  Bon  Dieu.  A  little  pang  that 
was  half  envy  and  half-sincere  pleasure  shot 
through  my  heart.  Poor  Portia  !  Had  her  un- 
bounded aspiration  at  last  brought  its  own  ful- 
fillment,' had  she  found  the  man  who  should  come 
offering  her  his  heart  and  a  fortune,  too  ? 

265 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

All  about  me  was  that  gay  chorus  made  up  of 
popping  bottles  and  tinkling  forks,  of  flirting 
and  joking  and  laughter.  On  the  little  stage  a 
new  number  had  succeeded  to  the  last,  and  the 
music  added  its  merry  accompaniment.  Over- 
head were  the  silent  stars  —  the  same  stars  on 
which,  perhaps,  my  dear  Henry  was  gazing,  as  his 
boat  slid  out  of  the  darkened  harbor. 

Suddenly  at  an  unoccupied  table  near  that 
which  Victor  and  I  occupied,  a  lady  and  gentle- 
man came  and  sat  down.  Perhaps  I  shouldn't 
say  a  gentleman,  either,  —  an  elderly,  tired-look- 
ing person  with  something  of  the  air  of  the  theater 
about  him,  who  ordered  only  a  glass  of  milk  and 
sat  sipping  it  as  though  counting  the  seconds 
between  each  two  sips.  But  the  lady,  who  was 
dressed  in  a  long  black  satin  wrap  and  a  very 
correct  little  straw  hat,  took  no  refreshment 
whatever.  Then  all  of  a  sudden  I  recognized  her. 
It  was  Fay  come  back. 

Victor  had  not  noticed  her.  She  fixed  her 
eyes  on  him  —  large,  luminous,  imploring  eyes  — 
and  waited. 

Suddenly  Victor  turned  as  though  he  had  been 
stung,  and  met  her  gaze  full  in  the  face.  For  an 

266 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

instant  they  remained  staring  at  each  other, 
while  I  watched  them  discreetly  from  beneath 
my  lashes.  Then,  with  a  shuddering  effort,  as 
though  heaving  a  weight  far  beyond  his  strength, 
Victor  dragged  his  eyes  away.  But  Fay's  eyes 
never  wavered. 

On  the  stage  her  presence  had  had  its  startling, 
its  moving  effect  on  the  man  who,  according  to 
the  limitations  of  his  nature,  undoubtedly  loved 
her.  But  here  close  beside  him,  leaning  toward 
him  with  parted  lips  and  wide-open,  shining  eyes 
that  alternately  threatened  and  implored,  — 
though  no  one  but  me  seemed  to  notice  the  fact, 
—  here  at  the  highest  moment  of  Mrs.  Cobb's 
triumph,  this  insignificant  little  creature  had 
come  to  measure  swords  with  her.  For  without 
any  metaphor  it  seemed  an  actual  fact  that  those 
eyes  held  a  sword.  Never  in  any  face  have  I 
seen  so  intense  a  concentration  of  the  human 
will,  focused,  as  it  were,  in  the  blade  of  light  that 
streamed  from  those  unwinking  irises.  "  Come  !" 
said  the  eyes.  "I  love  you  —  come!" 

Upon  my  word,  I  had  to  feel  sorry  for  Victor. 
To  be  sure,  he  was  hardly  an  ideal  type,  so  much 
was  certain,  and  governed,  moreover,  by  motives 

267 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

purely  mercenary.  But  he  was  human,  just  the 
same,  and  in  that  moment  he  undoubtedly 
suffered.  Suffered !  It  was  torments  that  he 
underwent,  while  his  legs  writhed  themselves 
about  those  of  his  chair  and  his  shaking  hand 
returned  continually  to  the  champagne.  And 
like  his  body,  his  head  seemed  galvanized  into 
perpetual  motion ;  turned  sidewise  to  see  if  Fay 
were  still  looking  at  him,  then  jerked  away  like 
a  tooth ;  then,  as  though  by  some  irresistible  law 
of  nature,  like  the  sunset  or  the  tides,  back  went 
his  eyes  to  hers  —  back,  every  time. 

This  little  drama,  which  lasted  perhaps  ten 
minutes,  seemed  by  its  very  intensity  prolonged 
to  as  many  hours.  Then  suddenly  I  beheld  the 
tortured  legs  of  Victor  which  quivered  and  then 
remained  transfixed,  like  those  of  a  smitten 
beast.  Involuntarily  I  turned  and  looked.  There 
in  the  brilliant  eyes  under  the  little  dark  hat, 
bent  as  ever  upon  Victor,  had  gathered  two  shin- 
ing tears.  Whether  by  art  or  by  genuine  emotion, 
the  effect  was  perfect.  Thus  softened  by  sorrow, 
the  eyes  became  of  magical  enchantment  of 
irresistible  seduction.  "Come!"  they  said,  "my 
beloved  one,  come  ! " 

268 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Suddenly  Victor  leaped  to  his  feet.  "  I'm 
damned,"  I  heard  him  say  under  his  breath, 
"  if  I  can  stand  this  any  more !" 

His  chair,  knocked  away  by  his  hasty  gesture, 
fell  crashing  to  the  ground.  From  flirting,  from 
bragging,  or  from  laying  down  the  law,  the  atten- 
tion of  all  was  suddenly  reclaimed  to  him,  as, 
stepping  forward  for  half  a  dozen  paces,  he 
seized  Fay  by  the  hand. 

"  Come,  Fay!"  he  said,  in  a  voice  so  changed 
I  hardly  recognized  it  as  his.  "  Mother,  I'm 
going  !  Good-by  ! " 

Had  he  suddenly  gone  mad  and  drawn  a  pistol, 
the  commotion  could  hardly  have  been  greater. 
The  whole  company  leaped  to  its  feet,  in  a  clatter 
of  overturned  chairs  and  smashing  wineglasses. 

Ermentrude,  like  the  goose  she  is,  began  to 
scream :  "  Oh  !  Is  it  a  fire  ?" 

Mrs.  Cobb,  pale  and  immovable  in  her  place, 
called  her  son's  name.  "  Victor  !  Come  here  !" 

Victor  turned;  but,  sustained  by  the  adoring 
beams  of  those  eyes  that  had  vanquished  him,  he 
found  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  strength  to  defy 
even  those  steely  orbs  which  from  infancy  had 
commanded  his  obedience.  For  the  first  time 

269 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

since  I  had  known  him  I  am  bound  to  own  that 
he  appeared  admirable,  and  that  I  admired  him. 
Force  had  come  into  his  slouching  shoulders,  fire 
into  his  eyes.  He  held  up  his  head  and  answered 
his  mother  like  a  man  :  — 

"No,   mother,   I  will  not!" 

Mrs.  Cobb  uttered  a  shrill  scream.  And, 
forgetful  of  the  Duchess  and  of  the  august  com- 
pany that  she  had  gathered  to  meet  her,  she 
darted  forward  and  seized  her  rebellious  son  by 
the  hand.  Fay,  still  holding  the  other,  stood 
modestly  with  her  conquering  eyes  downcast. 

"  Victor,  you  have  drunk  too  much.  Drop 
that  girl's  hand  at  once,  and  let  me  take  you 
home!" 

Unmindful  of  their  manners  in  the  desperate 
interest  of  the  scene  thus  enacted  before  them, 
Mrs.  Cobb's  guests  crowded  close  in  a  ring, 
jostled  each  other's  shoulders,  even  climbed  on 
chairs  for  a  better  view.  Around  us  there  was 
no  noise  but  their  strained  breathing,  together 
with  the  monotonous  music  from  the  stage,  and  the 
occasional  clink  of  glasses  from  the  other  tables. 
Victor  shook  off  his  mother's  hand  as  though  it 
had  been  a  butterfly. 

270 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

"  No,  mother,  my  mind  is  made  up.  I  can't 
stand  this  any  more.  Lili  doesn't  want  to  marry 
me,  any  more  than  I  want  to  marry  her.  Here's 
the  girl  I  want  for  my  wife  —  and,  by  God,  I'm 
going  to  have  her  ! " 

There  was  something  terrible,  —  the  two  faces, 
of  mother  and  of  son,  stamped  not  only  in  the 
same  image  but  in  the  same  mask  of  tragic 
rage  and  of  bitter  resolution,  and  turned  against 
each  other.  Mrs.  Cobb  spoke  first,  in  a  choked 
voice. 

"  You  desert  me,  your  mother  ?  You  desert 
Lili  ?  You  marry  this  —  this  person  ?  Victor, 
you  know  the  consequences  !" 

Her  son's  voice  seemed  the  echo  of  hers,  iden- 
tical in  tone  as  in  intensity.  "  Keep  your  money 
—  that  is,  my  father's  money !  You've  treated 
me  like  a  child  long  enough  !  Now  I'm  a  man, 
and,  by  Heaven,  I'll  take  a  man's  rights  !  I  guess 
I  can  work  for  my  wife  as  well  as  the  next  fellow. 
Will  you  marry  me  without  a  penny,  Fay  ?" 

For  answer  she  clung  to  his  arm.  Yes,  perhaps 
she  loved  him,  after  all;  for  what  else  but  love 
could  have  worked  that  miracle,  could  have  pierced 
that  dull  hide  of  egotism  and  self-indulgence, 

271 


HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

have  galvanized  that  inert  hulk  into  life,  could 
have  made  of  Victor  Cobb,  as  he  himself  said,  a 
man  ? 

I  wanted  to  clap  my  hands  in  pure  admiration, 
to  shout  "Bravo,  Victor!"  after  him,  as,  still 
holding  Fay  by  the  hand,  he  walked  resolutely 
away  toward  the  elevator.  His  mother,  as  though 
turned  to  stone,  stood  gazing  after  him  with 
anguished  eyes. 

"Upon  my  word!"  I  heard  a  voice  mutter 
somewhere  near  me,  "  one  has  to  admire  the  fel- 
low, after  all !" 

"  Right  you  are ! "  I  wanted  to  cry  out  in 
response.  But  a  sudden  thought  came  to  me 
and  took  my  breath.  Since  of  his  own  free  will 
Victor  had  abandoned  me,  I  was  free  —  free  to 
go  to  Henry. 

Ah,  Henry,  my  dear,  dear  Henry  !  The  thought 
of  him  in  that  instant  was  too  much  for  me,  and 
I  began  to  cry. 

Instantly  and  from  all  quarters  there  was  a 
rush  of  consolation  toward  me.  From  the  de- 
serting bridegroom,  attention  was  at  once  recalled 
to  focus  itself  upon  the  deserted  bride. 

"Ah,  poor  little  thing!"  —  "Dear  Made- 
272 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

moiselle,  try  to  control  yourself  !"  —  "  Poor  little 
creature,  what  a  tragedy  for  her!"  —  While 
somewhere  in  the  immediate  background  I  heard 
Aunt  Elizabeth's  voice  booming  majestically :  — 

"  I  have  heard  much,  Mrs.  Cobb,  of  the  dis- 
obedience of  American  children ;  but  I  must  say, 
your  son  — " 

While  Portia's  voice,  thin  and  correct,  in  my 
ear :  "  There,  don't  cry,  poor  Lili !  It's  really 
too  distressing  !  I  pity  you  with  all  my  heart!" 

But  through  the  compassion  of  her  words 
struck  a  note  of  secret  pleasure  that  I  understood, 

—  in  a  few  short  hours  had  not  our  positions,  ac- 
cording to  all  human  probability,  been  precisely 
reversed  ?     And  Portia  was  pitying  me,  triumph- 
ing over  me  !    The  idea  was  too  ridiculous,  and 
I    burst    out    laughing.     Then,    somehow,    the 
laughter  got  tangled  up  with  the  tears,  and  when 
I  tried  to  stop  laughing,  I  found  that  I  couldn't. 
But  the  absurd  part  of  it  was,  all  the  time  I  was 
laughing   for   sheer   happiness.     Henry,    Henry ! 
I  was  free  to  go  to  you  at  last. 

So  the  hubbub  around  me  increased.  "  Poor 
little  thing  !  She  has  hysterics,  and  no  wonder  !" 

—  "  Here's  my  vinaigrette."  —  "  No,  cold  water 

273 


HER   WORD   OF   HONOR 

is  better !"  Then  severe,  scolding  voices,  of  very 
knowing  persons :  "  Mademoiselle,  you  are  act- 
ing like  a  fool!  Stop  that  noise  immediately!" 
Then,  helpless,  distressed  voices :  "  Maid ! 
Waiter,  send  a  maid  !" 


274 


CHAPTER   XIX 

NOW  there  at  last  was  a  sensible  idea;  for 
I  knew  that  if  I  could  only  get  away  from 
all  this  noise  and  eyes  staring  at  me,  I  should  be 
well  again  directly.  So  the  maid  came,  —  a  nice, 
fat,  important-looking  person  who  immediately 
took  my  arm.  And  it  was  really  too  ridiculous  ! 
The  old  gentleman  who  took  my  other  arm,  — 
a  kind  old  colonel  with  white  mustache,  a  great 
friend  of  Mrs.  Stuart's,  who  had  a  moment  ago 
murmured  his  applause  of  Victor  —  well,  this 
time  he  murmured  again,  quite  in  my  ear :  — 

"  Come,  come,  my  pretty  little  lady !  Your 
sensibility  does  you  great  credit ;  but  you  really 
don't  expect  us  to  believe  that  you  feel  quite  so 
badly  as  that  ?" 

I  almost  laughed  out  loud.  And,  sure  enough, 
as  soon  as  the  maid  had  put  me  on  the  dressing- 
room  sofa,  and  left  me  quiet  for  a  moment,  like 
the  sensible  person  she  looked,  then  my  tears  and 
my  gasps  ceased  as  if  by  magic.  For  a  few  mo- 

275 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

ments  I  lay  supine,  like  a  tortured  beast  that  has 
just  thrown  off  its  load ;  content  to  exist,  and  no 
more,  in  the  realization  that  my  terrible  burden 
was  no  longer  strapped  to  my  shoulders,  that 
Lucia's  dagger  could  never  be  needed  any  more, 
that  I  was  free  to  love  Henry  with  my  whole  heart 
and  to  let  him  love  me.  I  sprang  to  my  feet. 
An  idea  had  come  to  me. 

I  fairly  shrieked  for  the  maid. 

She  turned  back  from  the  window.  "  You  are 
better,  Miss  ?" 

"Yes,  yes!"  My  hand  trembled  on  the  gold 
bag  on  my  wrist,  and  I  drew  a  bill  from  it  at 
random.  "  Look  !  Would  you  like  five  dollars  ?" 

Her  hand  closed  on  the  money  like  the  snap  of 
an  automaton.  She  whispered,  "  Is  it  a  word 
you  want  carried  to  one  of  the  gentlemen,  Miss  ?" 

"  No,  no  !  Just  take  me  downstairs  and  find 
me  my  wraps  and  put  me  into  a  taxicab.  At 
once  !" 

So  downstairs  in  one  of  those  breath-taking 
lifts  we  fell,  as  one  falls  down  a  well.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  the  Lorraine  had  not  yet  left  her  dock ! 
They  had  said,  at  table,  her  sailing  was  delayed 
until  this  evening.  Ah,  those  blessed  strikers  ! 

276 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Who  knows  ?  If  they  had  been  obstinate  enough 
and  violent  enough  and  wicked  enough,  perhaps 
they  had  prevented  the  steamer  from  taking  on 
her  cargo  and  sailing;  perhaps,  I  might  be  in 
time  to  keep  Henry  from  going  away,  after  all ! 

Downstairs  in  the  hall  there  were  cruel  delays, 
incredible  delays,  before  the  maid  could  find  my 
little  satin  cloak.  I  should  have  gone  at  once 
without  it;  but  in  my  white  lace  dinner  dress, 
with  its  hanging  festoons  of  pearls,  I  noticed  that 
people  stared  at  me  as  though  I  had  escaped 
from  the  Jardin  des  Plantes.  Besides,  it  was  late, 
nearly  one  o'clock,  and  I  didn't  want  to  make 
poor  Henry  ridiculous,  arriving  to  search  for  him 
—  if  he  was  still  there  —  looking  like  a  wild 
creature. 

But  at  last  the  cloak  was  found  and  wrapped 
around  me.  Then  more  delays,  maddening  de- 
lays, for  a  taxi.  Then,  finally  —  ah,  that  wild 
dash  through  the  sultry  streets  of  the  city,  behind 
a  chauffeur  trying  to  earn  a  ten-dollar  tip  by  ar- 
riving at  the  dock  of  the  French  Line  in  ten 
minutes  —  and  with  a  volcano  in  my  heart ! 

As  we  turned  in  at  the  entrance  of  the  long 
wharf  shed,  suddenly  I  heard  the  hoarse  blast  of 

277 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

a  steamer's  whistle.  Ah,  I  knew  what  that 
meant !  The  chauffeur  shouted  to  a  man  leaning 
against  a  pile  of  packing  cases,  a  rough-looking 
fellow  with  the  look  of  a  striker. 

"  Say,  has  the  Lorraine  left  yet  ?" 

The  fellow  replied  with  a  sullen  stare,  "  No, 
curse  her,  she  ain't!" 

Oh,  dear,  kind  striker,  led  by  Heaven,  I  owed 
this  good  fortune  to  you  !  Opening  my  bag 
again,  I  tossed  the  man  a  bill,  just  to  relieve  the 
joy  of  my  heart.  Behind  me,  I  heard  the  horn 
of  another  late  comer's  automobile.  For  a  mo- 
ment I  hesitated.  The  warehouse  was  so  long, 
there  were  so  few  lights,  so  many  people  !  Where 
should  I  go  to  find  Henry  ?  With  blind  resolu- 
tion, I  precipitated  myself  in  the  direction  whence 
the  whistle  had  come.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  voice 
behind  me :  — 

"Lili,  Lili!" 

I  turned.     It  was  Mrs.  Cobb. 

The  sight  of  her,  which  had  never  pleased  me 
too  sincerely,  had  perhaps  never  been  so  unwel- 
come to  me  as  at  that  instant.  But  for  mere 
decency  I  had  to  check  my  flying  steps  and  wait 
for  her  to  catch  up  with  me.  Her  eyes  were  wild, 

278 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

her  bare  shoulders  uncovered  but  for  a  little  lace 
scarf.  I  flung  out  my  hand  violently  :  — 

"  No,  it's  no  use  coming  for  me !  I  won't  go 
back!" 

She  seized  my  hand  in  both  of  hers.  And  to- 
gether we  sped  down  the  dim,  interminable  length 
of  the  wharf  shed ;  while  Mrs.  Cobb,  gasping  for 
breath,  let  fall  questions  and  answers  that  were 
no  more  than  half  intelligible. 

"  Lili,  my  poor  child  !  You  crazy  child,  to 
come  here  alone !  It  was  the  Duchess  insisted 
that  I  should  come  after  you.  And  I  wanted  to 
see  you  myself,  dear,  you  understand  that,  and 
explain.  That  wretched  boy !  The  Duchess  is 
quite  furious ;  she  talks  of  a  breach  of  promise 
suit  and  all  sorts  of  things.  My  darling  child, 
can  you  ever  forgive  me,  and  make  the  Duchess 
forgive  me  ?" 

"  Hurry,  hurry  !  But,  dear  Madame,  how  did 
you  know  where  to  find  me  ?"  It  was  really  too 
vexatious !  I  boiled  with  wrath  as  I  tugged  her 
puffing  bulk  along  beside  me.  Again  the  steam- 
er's whistle  roared.  After  all,  should  I  be  too 
late  ? 

"  It  was  when  we  sent  to  the  dressing-room  and 
279 


HER  WORD   OF   HONOR 

found  you  gone,  my  dear,  gone  !  I'm  bound  to 
own,  everybody  smiled  and  said :  *  She's  gone  to 
find  poor  Henry  Stuart  —  bully  for  her!'  And 
that  nice  old  friend  of  Mrs.  Stuart's  —  Colonel 
Appleby,  you  remember  him  ?  —  he  said  :  '  Mrs. 
Cobb,  take  a  taxi  and  drive  at  once  to  the  dock 
of  the  French  Line.  If  the  Lorraine  hasn't  sailed 
yet,  I  think  we  can  eat  that  wedding  cake,  after 
all!'" 

"Hurry,  hurry!" 

In  another  moment  —  ah  !  thank  the  bon  Dieu! 
we  emerged  from  behind  a  pile  of  accumulated 
cargo  into  a  blaze  of  electric  light.  At  the  foot 
of  a  gang  plank  stood  a  group  of  men  in  uniform ; 
porters  and  sailors  came  and  went.  Before  me 
rose  the  high,  black  wall  of  a  ship's  side.  My 
heart  leaped  as  though  it  would  burst. 

"Monsieur!"  I  rushed  to  the  group  in  uni- 
form. "  Monsieur,  I  wish  to  speak  with  Monsieur 
Henry  Stuart,  a  passenger  on  this  ship.  Where 
can  I  find  him,  please  ?" 

The  oldest  and  most  important-looking  surveyed 
me  up  and  down  gruffly.  "  The  ship  is  just  sail- 
ing. Besides,  the  passengers  are  all  asleep.  Is 
it  very  important?" 

280 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Ah  !  he  was  a  Frenchman,  of  course.  I  had 
forgotten  that.  Quick  as  a  flash  I  changed  to 
the  tongue  that  was  his  as  well  as  mine.  "  Mon- 
sieur !  for  the  love  of  God  send  for  him  !  It's  a 
matter  of  life  and  death.  No,  you  understand  — 
more  than  life  and  death  !" 

His  weary  face  relaxed  in  a  smile,  he  looked  from 
me  to  Mrs.  Cobb,  in  her  lace  and  sparkling  jewels, 
then  back  to  me  again. 

"  Mademoiselle,  there's  only  one  thing  more 
important  than  life  and  death ;  I  remember  that, 
even  I!" 

Then  he  turned  with  a  quick  order  to  a  sub- 
ordinate at  his  side,  who  dashed  off  at  the 
word :  — 

"  I  am  sorry  it  is  too  late  to  invite  you  on  board, 
Mesdames;  but  in  a  few  moments  you  shall  see 
Mr.  Henry  Stuart  if  they  can  wake  him." 

Mrs.  Cobb,  with  her  hand  pressed  to  her  heav- 
ing bosom,  sank  down  on  one  of  the  packing  cases 
with  which  the  wharf  was  encumbered.  As  for 
me,  the  blood  roared  in  my  head.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments I  should  see  him  again  !  How  would  he 
greet  me  ?  For  my  base  desertion  of  the  other 
day  had  he  forgiven  me  ?  Did  he  still  — 

281 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

Across  the  scudding  whirl  of  my  thoughts  broke 
the  voice  of  Mrs.  Cobb. 

"  Oh,  Lili,  Lili,  what  shall  I  do  ?  Do  you  think 
that  I  ever,  ever  shall  see  him  again  ? " 

I  turned  toward  her  with  a  start.  Him  !  But 
of  course  she  meant  Victor !  And  my  heart  was 
smitten  with  sudden  compassion  as  I  saw  how  old 
she  looked  under  her  tiara,  how  tired  and  grief- 
smitten  and  desperate. 

"  Oh,  Lili,  there's  no  use  talking,  he  did  look 
noble  when  he  stood  up  and  defied  me.  Yes, 
just  as  stubborn  as  me,  every  whit,  a  real  chip  of 
the  old  block.  Everybody  said  so.  Yes,  Lili, 
it's  the  strangest  thing,  but  every  one  seemed  to 
admire  him.  You  see,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that 
he  threw  you  down,  not  you  that  went  off  and 
jilted  him.  Yes,  my  boy  seemed  to  make  quite 
a  hit  —  that  is,  with  every  one  except  the  Duchess. 
And  I  think  that  perhaps  she  would  forgive  me  if 
she  thought  that  you  were  going  to  make  a  good 
marriage  with  some  one  else,  after  all." 

My  heart  leaped  to  pain.  "  Hush,  who  knows  ? 
So  you  are  going  to  forgive  Victor,  after  all  ?" 

She  made  a  gesture  of  desperation.  "  Who 
would  have  thought  he'd  have  made  such  a  hit  ? 

282 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

And  besides,  he's  my  boy  —  my  only  bo-oy. 
That  little  rat  of  a  girl  —  it's  hard  to  take  her  in. 
But,  after  all,  if  she  really  loves  my  bo-oy  — " 

Ah  !  Mrs.  Cobb's  iron  will,  meeting  with  its 
match  at  last,  had  to  buckle  and  bend  like  that  of 
any  other  loving  woman.  And  then,  as  she  said, 
Victor  had  made  such  a  hit !  So  he  wouldn't 
have  to  swing  to  that  strap  that  he  hated  so,  after 
all.  I  was  glad ;  for  when  your  heart  is  running 
over  with  happiness,  it  is  nice  to  think  that  other 
people  are  going  to  be  happy,  too. 

"  Then  you'll  speak  to  the  Duchess,  dear  Lili  ? 
If  only  she  could  be  prevailed  on  to  come  to  Bar 
Harbor,  after  all!" 

"  I'll  speak  to  her  myself  —  or,  no,  if  you'll 
give  me  a  card,  I'll  write  her  a  line  that  you  can 
send  her.  This  very  night,  immediately." 

I  thought  of  Portia  and  smiled.  Small  danger 
that  the  trip  to  Mount  Desert,  with  such  alluring 
prospects,  would  be  refused  ! 

"  You'll  come  too,  dear  Lili,  of  course  ?  You'll 
be  a  daughter  to  me  just  the  same  ?" 

"Lili!" 

It  was  Henry's  voice.  Tall  and  pale  in  the 
electric  light,  he  came  tearing  down  the  gang 

283 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

plank.  He  did  not  kiss  me,  though  I  should  not 
have  minded  if  he  had.  He  just  seized  my  two 
hands  in  both  of  his  and  held  them  tight  as  though 
he'd  grind  them  to  powder. 

"  Lili,  what  does  this  mean  ?  What  has  hap- 
pened ?" 

"  Oh,  Henry,  Pm  free  !  Pve  come  to  find  you. 
Pm  free,  Henry.  Oh,  Henry,  don't  go  away  !" 

"  What  ?"  he  said  in  a  dazed  way,  like  a  child 
suddenly  waked  from  sleep. 

I  tried  to  tell  what  had  happened ;  but  got 
things  all  mixed  up.  Mrs.  Cobb  kept  putting 
in  explanations  and  defending  Victor,  whom  no 
one,  be  sure,  was  accusing. 

But  Henry  never  listened  to  a  word  she  said. 
He  never  glanced  near  her.  He  kept  looking  at 
me  as  though  his  eyes  would  drink  me  up,  and 
holding  my  fingers  as  though  his  flesh  would 
enter  into  mine. 

"  You  beautiful  creature !  You  radiant  star, 
dropping  down  out  of  the  night !  You  mean 
you've  come  to  me,  to  belong  to  me  ?  You're 
mine  now  —  mine,  mine?" 

"  Yes,  Henry,  yes,  with  my  whole  heart,  if  you 
want  me !" 

284 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

He  straightened  himself  with  a  violent  effort, 
as  though  to  shake  off  the  daze  that  held  him, 
while  the  desire  of  my  heart  rushed  into  my  lips 
in  a  cry :  — 

"  Oh,  Henry,  don't  go  away  !  Oh,  Henry,  stay 
with  me  !" 

He  took  a  long  breath.  "  No,  Lili,  I  can't  stay 
now!" 

Pain  shot  through  my  heart  like  a  knife;  for 
I  could  see  he  was  himself  again,  wide  awake, 
eager  and  practical.  He  refused  me  ?  He  re- 
fused me  ? 

In  his  eyes  shone  the  light  of  a  sudden  resolu- 
tion. "  No,  Lili,  I'm  not  going  to  stay,  because 
you're  coming  with  me  !" 

"  Oh,  oh  !"  I  could  only  gasp.  While  I  heard 
Mrs.  Cobb's  voice  protesting  :  — 

"  Mr.  Stuart,  are  you  crazy  ?  She  cannot  go 
without  any  chaperon.  And,  besides,  she  has  no 
things ;  the  steamer's  on  the  point  of  sailing  - 

He  continued  to  address  me  as  though  Mrs. 
Cobb's  voice  were  that  of  a  noisy  child  :  — 

"  Listen,  sweetheart !  I'll  go  to  the  captain 
and  ask  him  to  delay  the  sailing  for  another  hour 
or  so.  My  firm  is  counsel  for  the  French  Line. 

285 


HER   WORD  OF  HONOR 

I  think  they'll  do  that  much  for  me.  Besides, 
he's  a  Frenchman,  and  when  he  hears  that  it's 
for  a  wedding  — " 

"  A  wedding,  Mr.  Stuart  ?" 

"Oh,  Henry,  a  wedding?" 

My  head  turned  round.  I  began  to  laugh  out 
loud,  I  own  it,  like  a  child  who  sees  bonbons. 

"Oh,  Henry,  Henry!" 

He  swept  on :  "  Come,  darling,  we'll  rush  and 
take  a  taxi  and  find  a  minister  who'll  marry  us  im- 
mediately;  or,  if  they're  all  asleep,  then  a  justice  of 
the  peace,  whatever  we  find.  Then,  after  we  arrive 
in  France,  we'll  be  married  again  as  much  as  you 
and  your  family  please  —  though  United  States  law 
is  good  enough  for  me,  even  if  it  isn't  for  you." 

Mrs.  Cobb  uttered  a  little  protesting  scream. 
"  But  you  crazy  children  ! "  she  cried,  "  you  can't 
be  married  at  this  hour  !  Where's  your  license  ?  " 

Henry  stopped  short,  looking  at  her  in  that  keen, 
serious  way  I  like.  "  Don't  be  afraid  for  this  dear 
child,  Mrs.  Cobb,"  he  said,  with  determination. 
"  I'll  ask  you  to  remember  that  I'm  a  gentleman 
—  and  what's  more,  I'm  a  lawyer  too.  A  license 
isn't  necessary  for  the  legality  of  a  marriage,  of  that 
I  can  assure  you." 

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HER  WORD   OF  HONOR 

Henry,  leaping  forward  in  that  quick  way  in 
which  he  does  everything,  made  his  request  to  the 
captain.  Ah  !  he  is  important,  Henry.  I  could 
see  that,  even  if  I  had  doubted  it  before ;  because 
here  out  of  that  great  individual,  the  commander 
of  a  ship,  he  was  able  to  get  what  he  wanted. 

"An  hour,  then.  But  an  hour,  sharp,  Mr. 
Stuart!" 

"  An  hour,  Captain,  on  the  dot !" 

And,  seizing  my  arm,  Henry  began  hurrying 
me  down  the  long,  shadowy  wharf  shed. 

Mrs.  Cobb,  clutching  her  lace  cloak  around  her, 
puffed  after  us.  Though  her  insistence  was  vexa- 
tious, still  I  knew  I  must  be  grateful  for  it.  She 
did  her  best  to  be  a  mother  to  me,  poor  Mrs.  Cobb  ! 
"  Then  why  do  people  ever  bother  about  licenses  at 
all,  Mr.  Stuart  ? "  she  panted,  with  a  flash  of  her 
accustomed  shrewdness. 

Hurrying  along,  he  replied  with  careful  defer- 
ence :  — 

"  Because  the  law  demands  them,  Mrs.  Cobb, 
and  it's  certainly  better  to  have  one  if  you're  not  in 
a  great  hurry  like  Lili  and  me.  A  clergyman  who 
performs  a  marriage  without  a  license  is  liable  to  a 
fine  if  he's  informed  on  —  but  if  you'll  promise  not 

287 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

to  be  the  informer,  dear  Mrs.  Cobb,  I  can  guarantee 
that  Lili  and  I  won't !  —  and  in  any  case,  I'll  leave 
him  a  check  that'll  pay  his  fine  six  times  over. 
And  fine  or  not,  the  marriage  is  a  marriage  just  the 
same.  Do  you  hear  that  ?  The  marriage  holds  ! 
—  Hurry,  my  darling,  hurry  !  " 

How  different  it  looked  from  a  moment  ago, 
now  that  I  was  no  longer  alone  !  I  cried :  — 

"  Oh,  Henry,  I  am  so  ashamed  of  the  other 
day  !  And  yet,  what  else  could  I  do  ?" 

"  Cruel,  wicked  Lili !  I'm  glad  you  are 
ashamed.  No,  a  thousand  kisses  will  not  be 
enough  to  pay  for  that  desertion  !  Do  you  know 
that  night  when  I  found  you  gone,  I  came  very 
near  putting  a  bullet  through  my  brain  ?  And 
my  poor  mother,  too  !  I  never  saw  her  so  over- 
come !  It  seems  she  was  very  much  attached  to 
your  family  in  France.  This  will  make  her  happy  ! 
Ah,  dear  mother  —  if  she  were  only  here  with  us 
now!" 

The  automobile  was  still  waiting  there,  with 
the  taxi  winding  up.  But  who  cared  for  that  ? 
Off  we  flew. 

An  hour  later,  in  the  same  motor,  back  we 
dashed  again  down  the  same  empty  street.  An 

288 


HER  WORD  OF  HONOR 

hour,  that  was  all  —  one  little  hour,  so  short  a 
time  to  change  two  lives  into  one  and  earth  into 
heaven. 

The  steamer  was  still  there,  after  all. 

So  my  husband  took  me  home  —  my  husband 
that  I  had  traveled  so  far  to  find  and  found  at  last. 
And  I  had  found  him,  after  all,  in  the  most  stupid, 
blundering  way  in  the  world,  all  by  chance  and 
blind  accident  —  I,  who  prided  myself  on  my  in- 
telligence and  my  philosophy ! 

Ah,  my  poor  philosophy  !  What  is  it,  after 
all,  but  a  pale  fabric  of  sad  dreams,  pieced  to- 
gether to  console  us  when  we  can't  get  what  we 
want  ?  And  when  we  once  get  that,  where's  the 
use  of  speculating  about  it  ?  Who  wants  philos- 
ophy when  she  has  love  ? 


THE    END 


289 


J 


